iPoem · 1036.6713.40.849 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
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 1036.6713.40.849 (no. 803,519) was generated on October 30, 2026 at 7:55 pm
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