iPoem · 2327.1720.548.158 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 2327.1720.548.158 (no. 800,663) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 12:38 am
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