iPoem · 7023.2958.215.834 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 7023.2958.215.834 (no. 803,264) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 4:36 am
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