iPoem · 5463.5260.378.287 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 5463.5260.378.287 (no. 802,650) was generated on October 28, 2026 at 11:59 am
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