iPoem · 6626.2393.945.161 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 6626.2393.945.161 (no. 805,834) was generated on November 5, 2026 at 7:33 am
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