cover image Black Marigolds

Black Marigolds

John Woods. University Press of Florida, $24.95 (62pp) ISBN 978-0-8130-1283-4

In his 14th volume of poetry, Woods ( The Salt Stone ) assumes the stance of a modest farm boy stepping out of a Hopper painting: ``he in the Texaco shirt, she with her hair / combed back over her ears.'' Beneath a thin surface, however, these poems take potshots at terror. A man jogs in the cemetery while graves are being dug up, a jilted bride spends days alone in her wedding gown with a pin in her bra strap. Everything seems populated with manikins. Vividly and in no uncertain terms, Woods describes the last Sunday in the world. While references to Christianity abound, these poems are informed by a heathen universe in which preachers are there to be mocked and Sears Roebuck might be mistaken for the Vatican. Woods delights in attributing human thoughts and actions to inanimate, commonplace objects. While distinctive, in weaker poems this personification forces objects to bear so much weight that the horrific is laughable, as in the banker who ``has no opinion / on the gold futures of oak / leaves.'' The sustained metaphor of men and women as plants (especially tulips) quickly becomes hackneyed, making this a weaker volume than it first appears. (Mar.)