1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5568.567.561.896 (no. 792,214) was generated on August 14, 2026 at 6:04 am
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.216.69
iPoem number reference:
5568.567.561.896
  (dataBase)
Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.
Okay – I got it – Close