1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 5001.6173.743.630 (no. 790,119) was generated on June 29, 2026 at 1:15 pm
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