iPoem · 7547.8410.98.438 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 7547.8410.98.438 (no. 791,008) was generated on July 20, 2026 at 11:16 pm
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