iPoem · 5251.5665.418.506 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5251.5665.418.506 (no. 790,713) was generated on July 13, 2026 at 11:25 am
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