iPoem · 7317.9395.956.464 · 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

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 7317.9395.956.464 (no. 802,586) was generated on October 28, 2026 at 8:02 am
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