iPoem · 2611.3163.612.608 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 2611.3163.612.608 (no. 801,817) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 3:45 am
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