Literary Yard

Search for meaning

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My Big Fat Redneck Privilege

By: Matt McCarter There are a few phrases that have been floating around college campuses the last few years – “whiteness” and “white privilege.”  These phrases have trickling down from academia into America’s popular culture and are quickly becoming part of…

Governor Ashcroft Comes to Piankashaw

By: Matt McCarter Mike Chamberlain usually arrived at the office of the Piankashaw Journal, the weekly newspaper, late and thoroughly hungover from a hard night of drinking.  He looked into the bottom drawer of his desk and found a half empty…

Story: The Forty-fifth

By: Mary Kaye Valdez “Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four… Forty-four…” our bus driver, Bernie, counted dreadfully slow. Please, say forty-five already. “Forty-three? No, forty-two?” he recounted. It was probably the fifth time he had been counting. It was also probably the fifth time…

Poem: Heavy Heart

By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick she tried and tried b u t it was never enough t h e r e was no right answer n o r correct decision e v e r y facet of her life C H…

Story: Principles

By: Cynthia Lloyd When Arthur fell in love with the farmhouse in Brittany, Jenny was too much in love with Arthur to care where they lived. “I’ll be fine,” she had said, “I’ve loads to do.” Jenny illustrated children’s books. “And…

Story: For Old Time’s Sake

By: Cynthia Lloyd Eleanor frowned as she looked out of the taxi window. She had thought the city would be unrecognisable after twenty years, but it looked just as she remembered it. Most of the shops and restaurants lining the steep…

Poem: Drawing Conclusions

By: Kelly Miller Making longwinded strokes painting a picture worth 1,000 words and more White washing life so my true colors won’t show through Cleaning the chalk from the slate again Does my life really imitate my art, shades of grey?…

Poem: “If You Assume”

By: Adrian Slonaker  If you assume I remember you take hay fever medication every August; your meals must be prepared macrobiotically; you stroll alone through churchyards when you wish to reflect, if you assume I feel the swirling cyan of your…