iPoem · 6454.6985.931.265 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 6454.6985.931.265 (no. 794,763) was generated on October 1, 2026 at 3:29 pm
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