iPoem · 4223.8493.938.913 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 4223.8493.938.913 (no. 806,617) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 5:02 am
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