iPoem · 7392.6562.965.817 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 7392.6562.965.817 (no. 799,798) was generated on October 20, 2026 at 4:34 pm
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