iPoem · 1643.9086.235.151 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 1643.9086.235.151 (no. 798,684) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 4:43 pm
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