iPoem · 1422.6789.243.863 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum

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 1422.6789.243.863 (no. 808,212) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 3:56 pm
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