iPoem · 242.8790.368.969 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 242.8790.368.969 (no. 800,653) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 11:59 pm
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