1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 5080.3753.283.518 (no. 802,174) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 2:32 am
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