iPoem · 5013.1612.432.853 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 5013.1612.432.853 (no. 808,216) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 4:07 pm
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