iPoem · 5197.5745.247.865 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 5197.5745.247.865 (no. 790,270) was generated on July 3, 2026 at 2:12 pm
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