iPoem · 2675.6770.525.895 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 2675.6770.525.895 (no. 801,717) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 8:55 pm
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