iPoem · 7055.7696.950.338 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 7055.7696.950.338 (no. 793,372) was generated on September 7, 2026 at 11:09 pm
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