iPoem · 2064.3986.698.659 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 2064.3986.698.659 (no. 789,117) was generated on June 9, 2026 at 4:33 am
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