1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 5054.219.396.137 (no. 793,628) was generated on September 11, 2026 at 2:04 pm
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