iPoem · 2630.409.260.314 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?

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 2630.409.260.314 (no. 796,631) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 8:36 am
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