iPoem · 5371.2065.462.605 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
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 5371.2065.462.605 (no. 797,743) was generated on October 15, 2026 at 3:02 am
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