iPoem · 763.8095.964.461 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 763.8095.964.461 (no. 794,678) was generated on September 30, 2026 at 3:54 am
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