iPoem · 5606.8297.984.873 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

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

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 5606.8297.984.873 (no. 799,610) was generated on October 20, 2026 at 3:45 am
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