1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 9827.6357.229.525 (no. 795,163) was generated on October 8, 2026 at 7:23 am
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