1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
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
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 5027.8055.644.221 (no. 796,823) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 8:36 pm
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