iPoem · 2705.8962.728.259 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 2705.8962.728.259 (no. 802,458) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 10:39 pm
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