iPoem · 7439.3167.235.457 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 7439.3167.235.457 (no. 792,874) was generated on August 30, 2026 at 12:11 am
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