iPoem · 2826.8167.143.395 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 2826.8167.143.395 (no. 795,785) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 1:45 am
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