iPoem · 1167.323.522.355 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 1167.323.522.355 (no. 792,747) was generated on August 27, 2026 at 9:36 pm
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