iPoem · 9453.368.995.596 · Cent mille milliards

1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 9453.368.995.596 (no. 790,700) was generated on July 13, 2026 at 11:25 am
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