iPoem · 2471.2679.933.186 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 2471.2679.933.186 (no. 808,521) was generated on November 12, 2026 at 11:41 am
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