Felix Pollak was born in Vienna and fled to the US from the Nazis in the 1930's. He was the curator of rare books at the UW library when I was appointed Director of the Milton College Convocations program. I had a limited budget, and so was always interested in finding local talent. I heard that he was a poet of considerable reputation and so arranged for him to read his poetry for our students. I had some reservations about the level of appreciation that Milton students might have for poetry, but their enthusiasm exceeded my most optimistic expectations. Some examples of his work: Paperback covers - oh well, you've seen them: there's more meat on than in between them. Adultery - an adult game that spells deceit. Practitioners, to avoid foul weather, must often put their heads together to make ends meet. Want to make it? Say but little and that little non-committal. Death - that is to say, a little bit of nothing goes a long way. Perhaps his best known poem, which was picked up by the anti- Viet Nam movement (but was written before that war) is THE HERO I did not want to go, they inducted me. I did not want to die, they called me yellow. I tried to run away, they courtmartialed me. I did not shoot. They said I had no guts. They ordered the attack. A shrapnel tore my guts. I cried in pain. They carried me to safety. In safety I died. They blew taps over me. They crossed out my name and buried me under a cross. They made a speech in my hometown. I was unable to call them liars. They said I gave my life. I had struggled to keep it. They said I set an example. I had tried to run. They said they were proud of me. I had been ashamed of them. They said my mother should also be proud. My mother cried. I wanted to live. They called me a coward. I died a coward. They call me a hero. Felix died in 1987, with several books of his poems published: The Castle and the Flaw -- The Elizabeth Press Say When---Juniper Spoon River Poetry Press published his Tunnel Vision (1984) and Benefit of Doubt in 1988, about a year after his death.