iPoem · 7580.1269.335.138 · 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

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
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 7580.1269.335.138 (no. 792,436) was generated on August 20, 2026 at 1:54 pm
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