iPoem · 1434.7493.910.378 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
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 1434.7493.910.378 (no. 792,819) was generated on August 29, 2026 at 1:00 pm
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