1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5030.5664.140.969 (no. 789,383) was generated on June 13, 2026 at 1:23 am
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