1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 7404.463.50.679 (no. 796,291) was generated on October 11, 2026 at 10:29 am
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