iPoem · 5516.8795.652.434 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 5516.8795.652.434 (no. 806,737) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 1:45 pm
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