iPoem · 2713.3754.543.183 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 2713.3754.543.183 (no. 791,389) was generated on July 28, 2026 at 3:18 pm
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