iPoem · 7267.5771.948.829 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 7267.5771.948.829 (no. 791,463) was generated on July 30, 2026 at 11:15 am
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