iPoem · 1043.496.477.346 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 1043.496.477.346 (no. 808,223) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 4:37 pm
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