iPoem · 2151.8810.45.439 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
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 2151.8810.45.439 (no. 796,006) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 3:42 pm
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