iPoem · 1079.175.986.389 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
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 1079.175.986.389 (no. 789,667) was generated on June 19, 2026 at 1:04 am
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