iPoem · 1899.3357.593.629 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
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 1899.3357.593.629 (no. 800,474) was generated on October 22, 2026 at 12:57 pm
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