iPoem · 1212.6170.632.431 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 1212.6170.632.431 (no. 794,325) was generated on September 23, 2026 at 2:00 am
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