iPoem · 2671.4323.238.111 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 2671.4323.238.111 (no. 792,153) was generated on August 12, 2026 at 8:32 pm
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