iPoem · 7452.3792.110.898 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 7452.3792.110.898 (no. 802,588) was generated on October 28, 2026 at 8:32 am
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