1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
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 2639.73.512.808 (no. 790,341) was generated on July 4, 2026 at 11:03 pm
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