Genia Goldberg

poetry Israel writing

  • Waiting for the massive bombardment to begin again

    Waiting for the massive bombardment to begin again living in anticipation of the siren— being woken every night at two, at three, at five, running down the stairs— one child in your arms, another stumbling drowsily beside you, trying not… Continue reading

  • never again

    Let’s go eat. Sure. Where should we sit? Maybe here— on the terrace. It’s nice outside. Yeah, but… what if a car drives by and shooting starts— like what happened to Arik last month? Right. Inside. That table in the… Continue reading