iPoem · 2612.8361.32.515 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 2612.8361.32.515 (no. 807,409) was generated on November 9, 2026 at 11:35 am
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