iPoem · 7514.3192.37.179 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
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 7514.3192.37.179 (no. 789,134) was generated on June 9, 2026 at 6:21 am
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