iPoem · 7541.3175.320.632 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 7541.3175.320.632 (no. 796,700) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 12:56 pm
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