iPoem · 2647.6204.313.29 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 2647.6204.313.29 (no. 795,015) was generated on October 6, 2026 at 8:53 am
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