iPoem · 2636.6183.359.677 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 2636.6183.359.677 (no. 801,803) was generated on October 26, 2026 at 2:44 am
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