iPoem · 5483.1397.882.151 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5483.1397.882.151 (no. 789,788) was generated on June 22, 2026 at 12:45 pm
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