iPoem · 2397.3297.568.558 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 2397.3297.568.558 (no. 792,771) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 11:49 pm
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