iPoem · 7990.7680.539.455 · Cent mille milliards

1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 7990.7680.539.455 (no. 793,877) was generated on September 16, 2026 at 8:44 am
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