1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5524.4069.798.153 (no. 792,595) was generated on August 23, 2026 at 9:06 pm
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