iPoem · 7707.8970.472.433 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 7707.8970.472.433 (no. 806,757) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 2:40 pm
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