1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 5239.6407.517.885 (no. 796,117) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 10:53 pm
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