iPoem · 7124.5883.911.192 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 7124.5883.911.192 (no. 795,453) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 6:09 am
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