iPoem · 7610.6689.653.709 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 7610.6689.653.709 (no. 801,771) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 12:37 am
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