iPoem · 7211.867.531.463 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 7211.867.531.463 (no. 801,617) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 2:01 pm
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