iPoem · 5229.6353.120.595 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 5229.6353.120.595 (no. 791,200) was generated on July 25, 2026 at 2:10 am
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