iPoem · 5433.7410.419.575 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 5433.7410.419.575 (no. 790,291) was generated on July 3, 2026 at 9:56 pm
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