iPoem · 5502.8293.95.640 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 5502.8293.95.640 (no. 791,512) was generated on July 30, 2026 at 10:47 pm
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