iPoem · 2087.7611.217.161 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 2087.7611.217.161 (no. 794,837) was generated on October 3, 2026 at 1:00 am
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