iPoem · 5151.2373.256.563 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5151.2373.256.563 (no. 796,396) was generated on October 11, 2026 at 5:01 pm
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