iPoem · 7154.7041.956.419 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 7154.7041.956.419 (no. 801,198) was generated on October 24, 2026 at 10:37 am
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