iPoem · 7391.7385.971.221 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 7391.7385.971.221 (no. 800,999) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 9:00 pm
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

Disclaimer: This website uses a temporary session cookie only; no persistent cookies are stored. As part of the 100,000,000,000,000 iPoem project, your IP address becomes one element in the generation of a unique poem among countless possibilities. The information is collected solely for the conceptual purposes of the artwork and is not used to identify you personally.

Okay – I got it – Close