iPoem · 4031.3945.336.155 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
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 4031.3945.336.155 (no. 789,504) was generated on June 15, 2026 at 9:05 am
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