iPoem · 7985.177.252.842 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 7985.177.252.842 (no. 792,209) was generated on August 14, 2026 at 3:17 am
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