iPoem · 1842.5323.455.305 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum

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 1842.5323.455.305 (no. 798,511) was generated on October 17, 2026 at 4:36 am
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