iPoem · 5111.781.390.715 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 5111.781.390.715 (no. 792,291) was generated on August 16, 2026 at 12:34 pm
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