1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 5355.260.130.805 (no. 800,546) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 5:03 pm
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