The phrase "a junkyard of" is correct and usable in written English.
It can be used to describe a chaotic or disorganized collection of items, ideas, or elements, often implying that they are discarded or of little value.
Example: "Her thoughts were a junkyard of memories, cluttered and tangled, making it hard for her to focus."
Alternatives: "a mess of" or "a hodgepodge of".
Its front yard was a junkyard of scrapped vehicles and broken artillery pieces.
Many competitors are unable to make it through the event, with the Sahara doubling as a junkyard of destroyed vehicles.
In its early years it was rescued from a junkyard of mergers by Alfred Sloan, who created a template for the complex, global company by consolidating finance in his own hands and delegating absolutely everything else.
Those of the Afghan National Army and Afghan police could not, and outside one of the main Canadian bases was a junkyard of Afghan vehicle chassis rusting in the sun.
Here is the Soviet Union as only its citizens knew it -- a junkyard of truncated aspirations, moral degradation, despair and inexplicable resilience, a place at once labyrinthine and explicit, dysfunctional and yet determined to survive.
This border town, where the only bridge linking Afghanistan to its northern neighbor, Uzbekistan, was opened with fanfare on Saturday, lay desolate and inactive today, a junkyard of discarded Soviet military armor and decaying concrete buildings.
My opinion is that if you try this sort of thing with, say, a couple of burly guys at a junkyard instead of with a woman at a supermarket -- well, I hope your health insurance is paid up.
Much of it bogged down as Mr. McCain and Mr. Bush accused each other of starting what has become a junkyard campaign of smears and attacks in the Lee Atwater tradition.
To the Editor: You report new revelations about the civilian massacre by American troops at Haditha, Iraq, in 2005 based on secret military documents that surfaced at a junkyard outside of Baghdad ("Junkyard Gives Up Secret Accounts of Massacre," front page, Dec. 15).
We live in a virtual junkyard of information, a growing, steaming pile of statistical garbage and toxic nonsense that won't decay and disappear.
In between were a junkyard evocation of clanging Tibetan ritual (Ron Ford's "Shift"); video game conflicts enacted with joysticks (Levy Lorenzo's "Brain Change"); and more singing metal (Elliot Cole's "Postludes for Bowed Vibraphone").
