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

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 477.9319.633.361 (no. 795,643) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 5:32 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.217.50
iPoem number reference:
477.9319.633.361
  (dataBase)
Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.
Okay – I got it – Close