iPoem · 5714.8606.545.439 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5714.8606.545.439 (no. 794,182) was generated on September 20, 2026 at 11:53 pm
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