iPoem · 1047.7943.140.861 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 1047.7943.140.861 (no. 808,820) was generated on November 13, 2026 at 7:40 am
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