iPoem · 7201.6379.340.608 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 7201.6379.340.608 (no. 801,508) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 6:46 am
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