iPoem · 7593.9003.930.590 · 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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 7593.9003.930.590 (no. 804,308) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 1:32 am
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