iPoem · 5648.5322.254.492 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 5648.5322.254.492 (no. 794,414) was generated on September 24, 2026 at 11:59 am
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