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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 5157.7960.48.946 (no. 799,036) was generated on October 18, 2026 at 2:39 pm
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