iPoem · 202.8763.956.315 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 202.8763.956.315 (no. 794,625) was generated on September 28, 2026 at 6:35 pm
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