iPoem · 7694.9424.42.399 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 7694.9424.42.399 (no. 798,675) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 3:56 pm
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