1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5684.5377.551.718 (no. 809,144) was generated on November 14, 2026 at 5:52 am
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