iPoem · 2504.617.967.166 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 2504.617.967.166 (no. 799,400) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 1:58 pm
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