iPoem · 1001.7992.192.669 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 1001.7992.192.669 (no. 792,692) was generated on August 26, 2026 at 7:27 am
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