Literary Yard

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The Assistant Town Drunk at Interregnum

By: Todd Mercer The Assistant Town Drunk doesn’t want the pressure that goes part and parcel with managerial titles. So he lives in Town Drunk’s shadow. Call it messing up at messing up. He has laid down and will again…

This Reporter’s Opinion

By Alan Berger I’ve been trying to get the angle On her latest story She said she loved me once Then she made me sorry Now she is hanging a new one On her line But it’s this reporter’s opinion…

Patient 347

By: Kaitlyn Reese saw the word “unique” when I was ten. It was hidden in an ancient book in my grandmother’s office, covered by a pile of tousled blue shirts, the same we’d all wear on Monday. I confided in…

Penitence

By: A. Richard Sogliuzzo Vincent glanced at the graffiti on the wall of the Flatbush Avenue/Brooklyn College subway station, and then laughed. Amidst the usual array of “fuck you, eat shit, etc.” on the walls was a declaration that resonated…

True Heroes

By: Bob Forbes It is becoming as easy to locate a so-called hero as it is to find a McDonalds.  In fact, all one has to do is donate a pint of blood to receive a “Hero” sticker that can…

Mirrors – an essay

By: Bob Forbes The other day, I was in the men’s locker room at my Fitness Center.  I go there three days each week to work out on a variety of machines, hoping to maintain some semblance of a male…

The policewoman and the journalist

By Kusum Choppra The policewoman and the journalist Made a strange couple. She so glamorous He so stodgy, lugging Her bag and other paraphernalia. She of the large round face The ready smile, the obvious make up That glitzy sari!…