Sean Casey: New Prose Poem
By Sean Casey
If you are from New England, you might have a question: Who is Tom Brady? In society today, a lot depends on Tom Brady. It’s Tom Brady this, Tom Brady that, but few New Englanders know just who or what Tom Brady is. You can’t beat the facts, but can you find them? As a boy, Tom Brady played on the same team as the young Abraham Lincoln and tutored him in the perfect spiral Abe threw years later at Gettysburg. At Henry David Thoreau’s cabin at Walden Pond, Tom Brady played Sega Genesis all the time. His come-from-behind win on Altered Beast inspired Henry’s whole non-violent hustle. Tom Brady’s still smiling about that. He’s got great teeth, a forehead like a plain state. Some say he is the GOAT, but there are so many GOATs: global warming, Khabib Nurmagomedov, supply-side economics, Johann Sebastian Bach. And let’s not forget the hamburger. How do you choose? Do you like goats? Who are you? How are you doing? Do you collect seashells? You see how this gets complicated. New Englanders advise you to stick with the basics: Who is Tom Brady? Does he have braids? After all we’ve done for him, what’s he going to do for us? When will it stop? Will he put another ring around the Rosie? Who will catch the bouquet? Maybe Tom Brady should get a life. We can get one too.
One Response to Sean Casey: New Prose Poem
I loved this. Very clear description of a man. I love the spare style and generous detail.