iPoem · 7231.7315.933.575 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 7231.7315.933.575 (no. 789,303) was generated on June 11, 2026 at 11:17 am
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