iPoem · 7591.2304.358.233 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 7591.2304.358.233 (no. 792,297) was generated on August 16, 2026 at 4:52 pm
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