iPoem · 5327.1680.410.386 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 5327.1680.410.386 (no. 792,428) was generated on August 20, 2026 at 9:36 am
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