iPoem · 5372.5593.238.285 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 5372.5593.238.285 (no. 792,281) was generated on August 16, 2026 at 4:30 am
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