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
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 7545.5499.959.711 (no. 800,872) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 1:32 pm
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