iPoem · 5311.8817.210.925 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 5311.8817.210.925 (no. 802,238) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 7:01 am
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