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

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 5197.7768.172.643 (no. 797,286) was generated on October 13, 2026 at 11:47 pm
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