iPoem · 7059.474.505.226 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 7059.474.505.226 (no. 801,383) was generated on October 24, 2026 at 10:00 pm
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