iPoem · 633.5625.538.410 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 633.5625.538.410 (no. 809,753) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 8:38 pm
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