iPoem · 2736.363.327.352 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 2736.363.327.352 (no. 806,789) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 4:05 pm
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