iPoem · 477.92.551.503 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 477.92.551.503 (no. 807,716) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 8:44 am
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