iPoem · 1020.3375.471.621 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 1020.3375.471.621 (no. 797,769) was generated on October 15, 2026 at 4:55 am
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