iPoem · 190.8698.442.582 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 190.8698.442.582 (no. 804,692) was generated on November 3, 2026 at 12:58 am
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