1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 5953.792.200.208 (no. 789,798) was generated on June 22, 2026 at 1:16 pm
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