iPoem · 7317.2767.147.981 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 7317.2767.147.981 (no. 797,807) was generated on October 15, 2026 at 7:42 am
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