iPoem · 5107.4314.65.869 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
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 5107.4314.65.869 (no. 792,936) was generated on August 31, 2026 at 10:28 pm
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