1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 7427.8464.557.819 (no. 796,706) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 1:32 pm
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