iPoem · 1018.4364.299.699 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 1018.4364.299.699 (no. 809,594) was generated on November 15, 2026 at 10:46 am
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