iPoem · 5198.2677.645.239 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5198.2677.645.239 (no. 802,845) was generated on October 29, 2026 at 12:57 am
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