iPoem · 4527.8812.135.851 · Cent mille milliards

1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 4527.8812.135.851 (no. 797,454) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 9:47 am
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