iPoem · 4437.167.179.169 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 4437.167.179.169 (no. 792,466) was generated on August 20, 2026 at 5:15 pm
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