iPoem · 2047.4297.133.598 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 2047.4297.133.598 (no. 792,724) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 5:37 am
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