Poem of the Week


Izzy Casey

I am the outlaw in the black hat.
        My shiny black boots match
my shiny black gun. A horse
         is what I am wanting
the worst. I used to have a horse.
            I named it Want
for sport. Want died.
            With one quick lick
of a scythe, I cut up the head
         of lettuce
for Want to eat.
         I cut the short
wheat into a yellow path
         for Want to enter through.
It ran from me, Want.
         It made me mad
that it was man enough
         to do so. I laughed
in the face of Want.
         When it opened its head
to let out a sound
         with my last three bullets
I stopped it.
         Where my heart should be
there is a cold, cold wind.
            I hurt myself
for it, its nothingness
         and its quiet.

Izzy Casey is a writer and editor based in NYC. Her poems have been published in Gulf Coast: A Journal of Literature and Fine Arts, Black Warrior Review, Bennington Review, BOAAT, The Columbia Review, NY Tyrant, and elsewhere. She received her MFA in Poetry from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where she was the recipient of a fellowship with the Poetry Foundation.
Originally published:
January 19, 2022


Louise Glück’s Late Style

The fabular turn in the poet’s last three books
Teju Cole

The Critic as Friend

The challenge of reading generously
Merve Emre

Rachel Cusk

The novelist on the “feminine non-state of non-being”
Merve Emre


Sign up for The Yale Review newsletter and keep up with news, events, and more.