So many firsts

I tend to read poetry when  
I'm doing other things
which is precisely
the wrong way
to read
it.
Poetry is more than
meets the eye,
the mind
and the
ear.
There are so many firsts in a
poem,even with all the
senses at work you
can miss the
firsts.
But still I persist with my cereal,
crunching the gritty bits
"the great city of
his audacity"
nearly slips
my grip:
shit.
Then to wondering how he found it,
did the 'city' in audacity
strike him first or
the audacity of
the great
city?
However it came to work
the great city of 
his audacity
is a first
class
1st.

For Cliff Fell