iPoem · 7631.3278.541.139 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 7631.3278.541.139 (no. 800,574) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 6:50 pm
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