iPoem · 7247.5162.39.584 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 7247.5162.39.584 (no. 806,111) was generated on November 5, 2026 at 11:41 pm
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