iPoem · 2019.946.737.255 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 2019.946.737.255 (no. 798,518) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 4:56 am
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