iPoem · 2113.8886.636.929 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 2113.8886.636.929 (no. 809,419) was generated on November 14, 2026 at 11:02 pm
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