iPoem · 2673.477.273.528 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 2673.477.273.528 (no. 806,479) was generated on November 6, 2026 at 8:32 pm
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