iPoem · 5035.8229.614.178 · Cent mille milliards

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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 5035.8229.614.178 (no. 791,161) was generated on July 23, 2026 at 11:48 pm
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