Transcription by Alletta Cooper

Pádraig Ó Tuama: My name is Pádraig Ó Tuama, and shortly after I moved to Belfast I had a friend who was living with me and he was out in the town one night and came home saying, “I brought us home a cat.” It was a little two-day-old kitten that he had picked up in the middle of the city where nobody lived. And so I ended up having this cat for six years. And then a teacher that I knew said, “For God’s sake, a cat needs a companion.” So I ended up having two cats in the house. And there was something about how my life was intertwined with these two very funny, very amusing, full-of-character animals. Finding people to look after them when I was away, and caring about them, and seeing how sometimes I projected my feelings onto theirs and how I could track my life through the years when I looked after these animals.

[music: “Praise the Rain” by Gautam Srikishan]

“Swale” by Michael Klein

“It’s derby day, & it’s been 30 years since 1984 when I stood in the grandstand at Churchill Downs after betting 20 bucks on Swale—the horse I groomed & watched as he pulled away from the great filly Althea, to win the 110th running of the race. Thirty years. & a lot of souls have risen to the upper register of life & my own life has been made more reachable by what their love did to me. I read some books & wrote some books & watched performances that moved my thinking. I’ve seen the man who gave me horses go home to his mother & I’ve seen other horses break down or go home to the grasses of their beginning to make more of their blazing kind. & after it all, I met the love of my life. & when the government turned something over, I foolishly married him—foolishly, only because all marriage is foolish—an errand into the maze. It’s Derby Day & I’m remembering my life in a stable & the ordinary living that spilled around it. I’ve eaten good food in places that had views of the everlasting & I’m certain I’ve seen the face of God on more than one occasion. & I’ve held animals so close to my own body, that something in theirs must have passed through mine. But nothing has given me more life than watching that big black beautiful shining soul run through the animal line & past all comprehension into the music of his speed & win that race on the first Saturday in May, in the Year of Forever. Here’s to Swale & to others of his kind, creature of my joy & of my sorrow.”

[music: “Daybreak” by Gautam Srikishan]

I’ve been looking for a poem for a while that speaks about the relationship between people and animals, or human animals and other kinds of animals, breathing beings of all kinds. When I read this I was so moved by the way it begins with speaking about Swale, this racehorse that was groomed by the poet Michael Klein. It goes into his own life and this reflection on years and then returns to Swale. I love it and I’m moved by it every time I read it.

Michael Klein, the poet, he’s a writer, and his best friend’s father had introduced him to working with horses, and so he became a professional groom. And that included being the groom for Swale, the horse that won the 1984 Kentucky Derby. Derby – we say it in different sides of the Atlantic. And if anyone’s looking for the poem to be one that critiques horse racing, this isn’t it. But in a certain sense, this poem starts off in horse racing and then it transcends it.

Amazingly, 30 years after the 1984 Kentucky Derby Michael Klein wrote a Facebook update just as his status and put down, essentially, the bones of this poem. And somebody from the Oxford American, which is a great journal of poetry, wrote to him and said, “Can I use that for a poem for the journal?” And what was a Facebook status became this poem, which is beautiful. The casual nature, the way within which the reference to the horse and then turning back and thinking about his life and then turning back to the horse, finishing with “Here’s to Swale & to others of his kind, creature of my joy & of my sorrow.” It’s like a toast. It’s like a praise song. His own life is in focus and the life of the horse is in focus, as well.

[music: “Daybreak” by Gautam Srikishan]

The opening of the poem makes reference to the 30 years between when the race was run and then when this reflection is happening. And there’s lots of numbers mentioned at the start. Thirty years and then 1984 and “20 bucks on Swale” and “the 110th running of the race,” the Kentucky Derby. And all of those numbers are printed as numbers they’re not written out. And it kind of looks at the beginning of the poem like the writing of those numbers out in numerals is a way of reproducing betting numbers and the economics around horse racing.

And then it changes. Thirty years is written out, T-H-I-R-T-Y, in the later part of the poem. Something occurs that changes the nature of the narration of the poem. And his all-time in-between is swept over. Something changed in the government. I read some things, I ate some things, I did some things. Friends died. They went here, they went there. Generalities are swept over in 30 years that are kind of embracing all of that life. And then we turn back to the specific of the horse and the race and some transcendent moment that seems to have lasted and continued to give and give and give back to Michael Klein in the ensuing 30 years.

This is a poem that is generous and full of gratitude in the way that it looks out and offers thanks for the changes that have happened in the life of Michael Klein. And it feels absolutely like a very autobiographical poem. This feels like it’s coming directly from his own soul, praising the souls of others and the way that his soul and their souls have been drawn towards each other and change has happened as a result.

[music: “Daybreak” by Gautam Srikishan]

Sometimes when I’m working with people, when they’re writing or editing poems one of the first things I’ll do is to say, “Take your draft and have a look at all the adjectives you might have put into the poem and take them all out. Just see, do your lines work without any adjectives?” It’s not to say that you can’t have any adjectives in, you can have plenty of them in. And this is proven by the brilliance of the line here in Michael Klein’s poem when he’s referring to Swale toward the end of the poem with four adjectives after each other. “Big black beautiful shining soul.” He doesn’t call Swale a horse here he calls Swale, “soul.” And he’s used the word soul earlier on, too, when he said “a lot of souls have risen to the upper register of life.” And at that stage, it seemed like he was talking about friends. But now something has occurred where he’s spoken about having held animals to his body. And we don’t know what kind of animals he means, but he’s transformed. He’s changed. Life has changed him. But also the love and the breath between animals has changed him. “My life has been made more reachable by what their love did to me.” Swale has “run through the animal line,” he says, and you get the impression that Michael Klein is looking at all breathing life at the end of this prose poem.

A lot of poetry poses the question — and not just poetry, philosophy and theology, psychology — “What is the soul? Is the soul moral? Do we have a soul? Is it part of the body? Is the body enlivened by the soul?” Etcetera. This is a poem about the soul. And the soul is animated and shown and given presence through the speed and beauty of Swale. Michael Klein says, “I’m certain I’ve seen the face of God on more than one occasion.” And I really feel like seeing Swale as one of those occasions. It’s not just about horse racing. It is “in the Year of Forever.”

Time has become eternal in looking at this moment. The soul, eternity, praise, all of these things come together like some kind of secular liturgy, some song that lifts up what it is that’s spoken about being alive through the beauty and grace and power and magnificence and speed of this animal, Swale.

[music: “Daybreak” by Gautam Srikishan]

“Swale” by Michael Klein

“It’s derby day, & it’s been 30 years since 1984 when I stood in the grandstand at Churchill Downs after betting 20 bucks on Swale—the horse I groomed & watched as he pulled away from the great filly Althea, to win the 110th running of the race. Thirty years. & a lot of souls have risen to the upper register of life & my own life has been made more reachable by what their love did to me. I read some books & wrote some books & watched performances that moved my thinking. I’ve seen the man who gave me horses go home to his mother & I’ve seen other horses break down or go home to the grasses of their beginning to make more of their blazing kind. & after it all, I met the love of my life. & when the government turned something over, I foolishly married him—foolishly, only because all marriage is foolish—an errand into the maze. It’s Derby Day & I’m remembering my life in a stable & the ordinary living that spilled around it. I’ve eaten good food in places that had views of the everlasting & I’m certain I’ve seen the face of God on more than one occasion. & I’ve held animals so close to my own body, that something in theirs must have passed through mine. But nothing has given me more life than watching that big black beautiful shining soul run through the animal line & past all comprehension into the music of his speed & win that race on the first Saturday in May, in the Year of Forever. Here’s to Swale & to others of his kind, creature of my joy & of my sorrow.”

[music: “Praise the Rain” by Gautam Srikishan]

Chris Heagle: “Swale” comes from Michael Klein’s book The Early Minutes of Without. Thank you to The Word Works and Michael who gave us permission to use his poem. Read it on our website at onbeing.org.

[music: “Praise the Rain” by Gautam Srikishan]

Poetry Unbound is: Gautam Srikishan, Eddie Gonzalez, Lilian Vo, Lucas Johnson, Amy Chatelaine, Kayla Edwards, Annisa Hale, and me, Chris Heagle.

Our music is composed and provided by Gautam Srikishan and Blue Dot Sessions.

This podcast is produced by On Being Studios, which is located on Dakota land. Open your world to poetry with us by subscribing to our Substack newsletter. You may also enjoy Pádraig’s book, Poetry Unbound: Fifty Poems to Open Your World.  For links and to find out more visit poetryunbound.org.