iPoem · 7180.870.933.176 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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.
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