iPoem · 7637.1995.469.868 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 7637.1995.469.868 (no. 809,743) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 7:48 pm
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