iPoem · 7819.192.260.549 · 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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 7819.192.260.549 (no. 795,313) was generated on October 8, 2026 at 9:37 pm
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