iPoem · 2110.9565.358.421 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 2110.9565.358.421 (no. 800,823) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 9:54 am
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