iPoem · 1621.5772.553.661 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum

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 1621.5772.553.661 (no. 790,353) was generated on July 4, 2026 at 11:39 pm
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