iPoem · 2047.3515.910.110 · 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
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum

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 2047.3515.910.110 (no. 806,860) was generated on November 7, 2026 at 9:04 pm
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