1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
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 1177.455.548.105 (no. 789,427) was generated on June 13, 2026 at 8:41 pm
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