1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9The genealogist with field and fess
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 2957.5061.613.61 (no. 798,691) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 5:02 pm
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