iPoem · 2520.8235.634.589 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 2520.8235.634.589 (no. 795,242) was generated on October 8, 2026 at 4:56 pm
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