iPoem · 440.7105.758.359 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 440.7105.758.359 (no. 791,610) was generated on August 2, 2026 at 4:42 am
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