iPoem · 1340.6370.765.838 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum

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 1340.6370.765.838 (no. 795,859) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 6:51 am
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