iPoem · 1813.5169.341.862 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 1813.5169.341.862 (no. 808,278) was generated on November 11, 2026 at 8:04 pm
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