1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come

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 1403.390.245.109 (no. 796,086) was generated on October 10, 2026 at 8:56 pm
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