iPoem · 7097.517.369.788 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 7097.517.369.788 (no. 798,529) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 5:51 am
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