iPoem · 7901.3396.960.203 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 7901.3396.960.203 (no. 790,809) was generated on July 15, 2026 at 9:07 pm
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