iPoem · 2058.8109.409.249 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 2058.8109.409.249 (no. 801,614) was generated on October 25, 2026 at 1:49 pm
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