iPoem · 9924.7250.562.149 · Cent mille milliards

1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 9924.7250.562.149 (no. 807,499) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 5:33 pm
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