iPoem · 1141.6372.674.419 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 1141.6372.674.419 (no. 794,687) was generated on September 30, 2026 at 11:25 am
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