iPoem · 2267.9370.733.291 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 2267.9370.733.291 (no. 803,564) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 11:01 pm
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