iPoem · 2644.7701.236.409 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 2644.7701.236.409 (no. 789,825) was generated on June 23, 2026 at 2:38 am
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