iPoem · 7952.82.667.499 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 7952.82.667.499 (no. 793,156) was generated on September 4, 2026 at 5:47 pm
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