1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 7049.6137.219.172 (no. 794,771) was generated on October 1, 2026 at 6:23 pm
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