iPoem · 1181.6308.983.269 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
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 1181.6308.983.269 (no. 797,255) was generated on October 13, 2026 at 9:54 pm
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