iPoem · 7627.4986.940.159 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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.
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