iPoem · 7993.8252.912.148 · 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
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 7993.8252.912.148 (no. 808,224) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 4:38 pm
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