iPoem · 7817.1329.581.479 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 7817.1329.581.479 (no. 791,089) was generated on July 22, 2026 at 2:01 pm
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