The Company of Heaven

In his new collection of poems, Skinner's souls ``prefer Ireland and Africa,'' his angels ``clean fish down at the docks / and live . . . on the black side of town'' and faith is ``shy and eager to please / like a homely child.'' Such a deft, even comic, touch keeps his quasi-religious cargo from sinking under its own weight. He maintains this delicate balance in poems such as ``Dangerous Teaching'': ``Oh children, I say, do you / believe? And they rise, and shuffle, and turn / gratefully to the door . . .'' Skinner is most successful when his imagination leaps, less successful in the abundance of ``memory'' poems that clutter this book. He seems to acknowledge the dangers of sentimentality when he comments: ``This poem / has gotten away from me, / I know, what sometimes happens / when you speak of memory.'' Frequently, Skinner returns to his own and his daughters' childhood because ``it is the only country / where we completely understand the language.'' There are many slack poems here, poems that begin with a flashy metaphor and go nowhere. But Skinner's ( A Guide to Forgetting ) best work is like his angel's fish scales--``shining iridescent.'' One only wishes there were more of it. (Dec.)