iPoem · 425.6027.234.618 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 425.6027.234.618 (no. 799,522) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 9:53 pm
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