1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 1445.6750.556.655 (no. 800,755) was generated on October 23, 2026 at 5:44 am
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