iPoem · 234.6975.15.846 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 234.6975.15.846 (no. 807,382) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 9:32 am
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