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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5028.724.466.968 (no. 795,934) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 11:00 am
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