iPoem · 7997.9964.396.566 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 7997.9964.396.566 (no. 797,787) was generated on October 15, 2026 at 6:07 am
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