iPoem · 1510.8765.335.367 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum

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 1510.8765.335.367 (no. 790,543) was generated on July 10, 2026 at 12:52 am
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