iPoem · 1871.180.949.559 · Cent mille milliards

1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
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 1871.180.949.559 (no. 804,568) was generated on November 2, 2026 at 5:53 pm
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