iPoem · 5653.6292.591.360 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 5653.6292.591.360 (no. 805,346) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 6:10 pm
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