iPoem · 642.3988.913.252 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 642.3988.913.252 (no. 809,652) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 2:50 pm
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