iPoem · 5407.2102.117.109 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5407.2102.117.109 (no. 790,232) was generated on July 2, 2026 at 9:29 pm
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