iPoem · 7150.5992.849.427 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 7150.5992.849.427 (no. 797,249) was generated on October 13, 2026 at 9:38 pm
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