I found this site about an amazing :
'French-based group interested in formally generated literature and relatively uninterested in literature that purports to describe the "real" world or that even pretends to be the product of sincere feeling. Oulipians set themselves rules—writing a novel without once using the letter e, for example—and pride themselves on the depth and interest produced despite (an Oulipian would probably say produced because of) the restrictions.' http://www.theatlantic.com/issues/2002/04/rose.htm

Using the N plus 7 rule on the whole poem ' I wandered Lonely as a Cloud', a verse turns into:

'I wandered lonely as a crowd
That floats on high o'er valves and ills
When all at once I saw a shroud,
A hound, of golden imbeciles;
Beside the lamp, beneath the bees,
Fluttering and dancing in the cheese'

I had to share this because to me it is pure genius, i think it is probably just me though..

Continuous as the stars that whine
And twinkle on the milky "Lay",
They stretched in never-ending Mime
Along the margin of a day:
Ten thousand saw I with no pantce,
Tossing their heads in sprightly trance.

spent too long here men
:)