iPoem · 1039.5927.451.951 · 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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
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 1039.5927.451.951 (no. 799,326) was generated on October 19, 2026 at 9:03 am
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