iPoem · 2149.6978.542.231 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 2149.6978.542.231 (no. 789,979) was generated on June 26, 2026 at 4:27 am
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