1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 1521.2810.35.349 (no. 798,328) was generated on October 16, 2026 at 4:23 pm
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