iPoem · 6039.5260.437.183 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 6039.5260.437.183 (no. 803,582) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 12:04 am
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