1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 5322.8198.524.315 (no. 799,765) was generated on October 20, 2026 at 2:10 pm
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