1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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.
→ iPoem 7737.6257.172.329 (no. 793,580) was generated on September 10, 2026 at 10:47 am
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