iPoem · 2643.754.440.629 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 2643.754.440.629 (no. 803,244) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 2:48 am
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