iPoem · 1352.5483.648.891 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
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 1352.5483.648.891 (no. 803,649) was generated on October 31, 2026 at 4:53 am
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