iPoem · 7038.3958.633.286 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 7038.3958.633.286 (no. 789,484) was generated on June 15, 2026 at 12:46 am
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