iPoem · 531.8405.979.68 · Cent mille milliards

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
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 531.8405.979.68 (no. 790,997) was generated on July 20, 2026 at 9:56 pm
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