iPoem · 5528.66.890.331 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 5528.66.890.331 (no. 789,681) was generated on June 19, 2026 at 12:24 pm
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