1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 5998.6683.136.161 (no. 796,344) was generated on October 11, 2026 at 1:42 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

← OPEN dataBase

ip number reference:
216.73.216.61
iPoem number reference:
5998.6683.136.161
  (dataBase)
Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.
Okay – I got it – Close