Occam sharpened his razor,
To a one-dimensional line,
Then cut his beard into strings.

They sprung from the depths,
Vibrating the songs of reality,
From which all composites sprang.


In the alphabet, Occam saw the unnecessary,
So he struck out ‘j’, ‘q’, ‘x”, and ‘z’,
Being rarities or duplicates,
And then even cut more,
Those being the vowels taking up space.

(n th lphbt, ccm sw th nncssry,
S h strck t ‘’, ‘’, ‘’, nd ‘’,
Bng rrts r dplcts,
nd thn vn ct mr,
Ths bng th vwls tkng p spc.)

But then one could only understand him almost.
(Bt thn n cld nly ndrstnd hm lmst.)


Writers of few words,
Even the laws that writ reality,
Say more more with less.


Occam was running
An anonymous support group
Called On and on anon.

His opening remarks took but a few seconds:
“One can often say more with less.”

Bill Clinton, along with many other politicians
And lawyers, then went on and on for hours.