iPoem · 443.5279.348.425 · 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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 443.5279.348.425 (no. 809,444) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 12:50 am
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