iPoem · 179.7392.710.918 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

Based on Raymond Queneau’s A Hundred Thousand Billion Poems, The 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem is a non-commercial artistic project inspired by Queneau’s work and the tradition of literary variation it inaugurated.
→ iPoem 179.7392.710.918 (no. 809,552) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 7:46 am
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