iPoem · 5575.8297.446.919 · 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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 5575.8297.446.919 (no. 808,425) was generated on November 12, 2026 at 4:54 am
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