iPoem · 6021.5968.274.579 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 6021.5968.274.579 (no. 804,887) was generated on November 3, 2026 at 1:54 pm
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