iPoem · 6547.6203.970.719 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 6547.6203.970.719 (no. 790,386) was generated on July 6, 2026 at 12:56 am
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