iPoem · 1146.93.430.137 · 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
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 1146.93.430.137 (no. 791,394) was generated on July 28, 2026 at 5:15 pm
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