iPoem · 7476.6129.490.103 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 7476.6129.490.103 (no. 796,403) was generated on October 11, 2026 at 5:39 pm
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