iPoem · 842.3183.58.479 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 842.3183.58.479 (no. 789,291) was generated on June 11, 2026 at 3:16 am
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