iPoem · 7347.2669.140.549 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 7347.2669.140.549 (no. 807,426) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 12:44 pm
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