***paradise-13-Felix Poem by Coach Roth

Felix came into Coach’s bar…
Barely 5’6” maybe mid-sixties
Scrawny and mousy…
with his beer
he asked Coach for cheese
and crackers…
“If you could please, sir…
I get dizzy drinking beer
unless I have some cheese
and crackers…”
Coach stuck out his hand…
“They call me Coach.”
“They call me Felix.”
“Well Felix, the kitchen’s closed.”
“I know sir, but everyone else
gets me cheese and crackers,
I really would appreciate it…
Just a plate with maybe four
slices of cheese.”
Coach grudgingly did so,
then went to grumble
with the L.A. police sergeant
at the end of the bar…
“That mousy guy irritates me…
thinking maybe I’ll just throw
him out.”
Sarge took a pull on his beer…
“It would be the last mistake
you’ll ever make…that’s our
martial arts trainer…he’s got
more black belts than a
men’s clothing store.”
Coach had to know…
“Felix, I hear you’re good
at martial arts…”
“Would you like a demonstation
Coach? ”
“Sure…”
“Stand very still, I’m going
to hit you with 17 blows
in three seconds…”
The hands were a blur…
Felix counting almost as fast…
Chops inches away from
the neck, head,
ribs, stomach…
Felix “Sixteen! ”
Coach “Thought you said 17.”
Felix.“Oh yeah, forgot”
Felix kneed Coach in the groin.