iPoem · 5155.9398.284.681 · 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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5155.9398.284.681 (no. 798,214) was generated on October 16, 2026 at 10:27 am
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