iPoem · 181.922.659.152 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 181.922.659.152 (no. 796,308) was generated on October 11, 2026 at 11:15 am
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