iPoem · 5703.7660.749.198 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 5703.7660.749.198 (no. 790,389) was generated on July 6, 2026 at 2:54 am
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