iPoem · 5959.6006.114.999 · Cent mille milliards

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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 5959.6006.114.999 (no. 793,627) was generated on September 11, 2026 at 1:51 pm
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