iPoem · 503.1615.562.342 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 503.1615.562.342 (no. 794,569) was generated on September 27, 2026 at 4:37 am
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