iPoem · 5777.6652.188.815 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 5777.6652.188.815 (no. 792,455) was generated on August 20, 2026 at 5:13 pm
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