iPoem · 7491.354.157.255 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 7491.354.157.255 (no. 794,295) was generated on September 22, 2026 at 2:47 pm
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