iPoem · 5927.7668.655.446 · Cent mille milliards

1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 5927.7668.655.446 (no. 807,791) was generated on November 10, 2026 at 1:41 pm
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