iPoem · 7516.6476.916.785 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 7516.6476.916.785 (no. 796,911) was generated on October 13, 2026 at 2:02 am
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