iPoem · 6010.1900.670.819 · Cent mille milliards

1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
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 6010.1900.670.819 (no. 795,584) was generated on October 9, 2026 at 2:01 pm
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