dogyard

@dogyardmag.com

Just a mag chasin’ tales. We accept all types of work from all (leashed) walks of life: poetry, fiction, essay, art, nonfiction, and more. Read & Submit 👇 dogyardmag.com Account ran by @edithkrone.bsky.social‬

A new hot bombshell has entered the villa? HEAR ME OUT. A LOVE STORY WHERE YOU'RE WALKING THROUGH A KENNEL AND YOU MEET THE MAN OF YOUR DREAMS... and it's a dog? Wait! #dogyard is here with it's first ever themed call! Send us something to be happy about. Let's have fun and fall in love.

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WOAH! WE'RE BACK! Sorry for the intermission, pups and mutts. My computer broke and that was a big ol' bummer. Besides that, WE'RE HIRING. Let's get it! Apply on our website today if you'd like to be a book reviewer or interviewer! We'd love to promote you and be a platform for your voice!

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Taylor Ward is back with another banger! It's been such a great year and this is SUCH A GREAT PIECE. We're so grateful for Taylor! What is your favorite holiday movie? I'm building traps in my house to ward out the evils of Krampus, but who is going to be my movie cameo that ages horribly? #dogyard

Poster that says "New Fiction! Read Taylor Ward's new work in dogyard mag!" with a picture of Taylor and a snippet of the work, “...we’re our most dangerous when our eyes are barely open, when our soft, round noses nestle into the tender bellies of our mothers.”

Today is scary. My first poem has officially been published to Rust & Moth! It’s been such a weird and long road to get here but I’m a published writer (of sorts) now. I don’t know what to do now but be hopeful that you enjoy it. Thanks. Bless.

Screenshot of a web page. The words are a poem by Edith Krone titled “at work, the new guy asks”

“you prefer she, right?
i want to say that it is not really a preference,
it just is, my life is not made up of preferences
but if it was, i would simply prefer to not be here.
i would prefer a cliffside, a Van Gogh landscape,
a menagerie of colors so bright that my eyes could
not focus, but mostly, i prefer to not see. if forced to,
id prefer to see the world through my eyes and through my eyes
i am six feet of stardust and Tennessee sunshine.
we heard how in Van Gogh's Starry Night, you could tell
the time through the stars but around here we mostly guess.
in the night humidity, we tell time by the cricket's chirp
and distant city lights--Marlboro smoke rising in place of us.”