iPoem · 7846.6964.800.291 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 7846.6964.800.291 (no. 793,669) was generated on September 12, 2026 at 3:04 pm
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