iPoem · 2356.3493.302.931 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
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 2356.3493.302.931 (no. 790,462) was generated on July 8, 2026 at 5:44 am
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