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 empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 7599.6091.520.623 (no. 790,056) was generated on June 27, 2026 at 11:00 pm
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