iPoem · 7079.2268.87.899 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 7079.2268.87.899 (no. 792,014) was generated on August 9, 2026 at 8:42 am
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.

Okay – I got it – Close