iPoem · 2719.6303.754.231 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 2719.6303.754.231 (no. 799,519) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 9:47 pm
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