iPoem · 5413.8187.708.405 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
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 5413.8187.708.405 (no. 809,617) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 12:33 pm
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