Analysis of Billy Collins steals from another poet’s work (but gentlemanly)

You are the bread and the knife.
You are the goblet and the wine…

You are the sun
Over the pregnant pasture.
You are the birds
Playing over the Town Square.

But…
Also NOT like the smell of the rose
Not at all like that.
Not like the velveteen blanket
To the touch, why
I feel your hands, hesitantly.
Somewhat like that pigeon
Perched on the general’s head
Or the odd person
Under the bridge.
Repeating a phrase, like a mantra.

The comparisons keep getting worse
And more hilarious
For the listeners.
Title of poem: Litany.