iPoem · 7277.6595.945.103 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 7277.6595.945.103 (no. 795,413) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 3:47 am
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