iPoem · 1318.7765.913.996 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress

12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb

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 1318.7765.913.996 (no. 804,624) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 9:41 pm
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