iPoem · 1644.9497.923.882 · 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
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum

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 1644.9497.923.882 (no. 792,193) was generated on August 13, 2026 at 3:23 pm
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