iPoem · 5524.4193.412.558 · Cent mille milliards

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
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5524.4193.412.558 (no. 792,374) was generated on August 18, 2026 at 2:26 pm
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