iPoem · 5759.419.251.751 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5759.419.251.751 (no. 793,876) was generated on September 16, 2026 at 8:44 am
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