iPoem · 2416.6983.240.171 · 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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 2416.6983.240.171 (no. 803,889) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 9:36 pm
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