iPoem · 5801.6398.1.387 · 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
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 5801.6398.1.387 (no. 794,955) was generated on October 5, 2026 at 3:27 am
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