iPoem · 7071.2640.683.101 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 7071.2640.683.101 (no. 809,699) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 6:02 pm
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