iPoem · 1144.5678.633.629 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
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 1144.5678.633.629 (no. 796,642) was generated on October 12, 2026 at 9:02 am
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