iPoem · 2256.8300.353.272 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 2256.8300.353.272 (no. 802,629) was generated on October 28, 2026 at 10:47 am
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