iPoem · 2363.8865.209.185 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 2363.8865.209.185 (no. 802,357) was generated on October 27, 2026 at 3:32 pm
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