iPoem · 7138.966.998.460 · 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
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 7138.966.998.460 (no. 794,590) was generated on September 27, 2026 at 5:05 pm
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