iPoem · 5206.957.659.163 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 5206.957.659.163 (no. 803,234) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 2:03 am
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