iPoem · 7430.6200.948.408 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 7430.6200.948.408 (no. 804,393) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 6:06 am
→ voir version originale | create new iPoem
→ navigate in dataBase ‹ ‹ bwd | fwd › ›

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

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