iPoem · 7059.8318.579.642 · 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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 7059.8318.579.642 (no. 793,393) was generated on September 8, 2026 at 4:32 am
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