iPoem · 6311.9361.939.685 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 6311.9361.939.685 (no. 797,541) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 2:25 pm
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