iPoem · 498.2991.420.159 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
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 498.2991.420.159 (no. 798,242) was generated on October 16, 2026 at 12:32 pm
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