iPoem · 5574.1364.4.449 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5574.1364.4.449 (no. 797,452) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 9:42 am
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