iPoem · 5418.7879.518.199 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 5418.7879.518.199 (no. 793,747) was generated on September 13, 2026 at 7:02 pm
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