iPoem · 7105.6229.245.151 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 7105.6229.245.151 (no. 800,607) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 9:01 pm
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