iPoem · 5622.485.331.412 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 5622.485.331.412 (no. 789,276) was generated on June 10, 2026 at 4:24 pm
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