iPoem · 2934.9345.332.849 · Cent mille milliards

1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 2934.9345.332.849 (no. 797,709) was generated on October 14, 2026 at 11:54 pm
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