iPoem · 7493.5274.153.192 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 7493.5274.153.192 (no. 801,596) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 12:44 pm
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