iPoem · 7580.696.586.896 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 7580.696.586.896 (no. 801,484) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 4:49 am
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