iPoem · 2427.8008.978.769 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 2427.8008.978.769 (no. 805,987) was generated on November 5, 2026 at 3:06 pm
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