iPoem · 3609.8323.934.955 · Cent mille milliards

1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 3609.8323.934.955 (no. 807,782) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 12:59 pm
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