The Epistemology of "Cheerios" by Billy Collins

Pieces of time, 

bowls of poetry.

every day, I stray

further from Hashem,

and deeper into Bushwick.

tying up loose ends,
resurrecting dead ends...

I live wherever I don’t belong.

I am an open wound 

of language... 

to say so little hurts.

a kiss buried in the dark.

But, the rest? 

I ask as sunlight drips.

Pieces of poetry, 

bowls of time.