iPoem · 2413.5862.990.153 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 2413.5862.990.153 (no. 809,629) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 1:01 pm
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