1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 530.6103.248.524 (no. 790,002) was generated on June 26, 2026 at 7:38 am
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