iPoem · 5717.8764.229.92 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
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 5717.8764.229.92 (no. 805,697) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 10:56 pm
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