iPoem · 7429.7762.440.615 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 7429.7762.440.615 (no. 803,892) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 9:43 pm
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