iPoem · 939.5955.943.526 · Cent mille milliards

1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 939.5955.943.526 (no. 808,736) was generated on November 13, 2026 at 2:32 am
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