iPoem · 5077.7065.570.553 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5077.7065.570.553 (no. 800,255) was generated on October 21, 2026 at 10:40 pm
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