iPoem · 7922.6107.216.796 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 7922.6107.216.796 (no. 795,723) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 9:48 pm
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