iPoem · 6834.6293.839.695 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 6834.6293.839.695 (no. 791,357) was generated on July 27, 2026 at 8:56 pm
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