iPoem · 5800.3410.965.285 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 5800.3410.965.285 (no. 790,420) was generated on July 6, 2026 at 9:49 pm
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