iPoem · 7133.6493.430.730 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 7133.6493.430.730 (no. 805,503) was generated on November 4, 2026 at 7:52 pm
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