iPoem · 5129.8073.711.396 · 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

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5129.8073.711.396 (no. 795,456) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 6:36 am
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