iPoem · 2042.3860.706.808 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 2042.3860.706.808 (no. 798,457) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 12:41 am
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