iPoem · 451.8603.318.79 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 451.8603.318.79 (no. 806,532) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 11:39 pm
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