iPoem · 7495.5312.219.131 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 7495.5312.219.131 (no. 803,800) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 3:39 pm
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