iPoem · 5129.7346.762.695 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 5129.7346.762.695 (no. 802,436) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 8:52 pm
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