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

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5001.8397.469.926 (no. 800,718) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 3:13 am
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