iPoem · 7349.3379.348.533 · 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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
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
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 7349.3379.348.533 (no. 803,867) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 8:00 pm
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