2024 Melinda Wyers
Welcome to Y2KQ!

Bacardi Breezer

Maja Urukalo

I was born in Summer

But never loved that season much

I don’t know what’s about it 

That always gets me susceptible

Perhaps it’s the scorching weather,

The mosquitos or the sweat 

There’s this memory that keeps coming up
Like an old movie I’ve seen a thousand times 

It’s me & my girl friends 

Chilling in a park near my house 

We were twelve and used our allowance

To buy bottles of Bacardi Breezer 

No one could see us, it was a small town 

And lying in the itchy grass with our booze

We thought we were so cool and rebellious

Oh, the sweet childish naivety 

Then we would gather the remaining of our money 

To ask strangers to buy us cigarettes

Soaking in perfume so our parents

Couldn’t smell the smoke on us

We pictured our future lives

Where there were no rules and bed times 

And we could watch all the movies we wanted

And become bosses, caretakers and lovers 

Apart from Roxy who wanted to be a mom
Nothing worked out that way 

Parts of us already knew it
But it was fine to dream 

There wasn’t much to do anyway 

While waiting for school to start again 

And waiting and waiting and waiting 

For the future to come, for the freedom 

For more purpose, for not having 

To hide the booze and the cigarettes

We were still friends in this future we imagined 

It’s been ten years since I last heard from them 

Roxy didn’t get to be a mom 

But Alexis did 

Maja Urukalo is a disabled and chronically ill writer based in Italy who drinks excessive amounts of coffee and thinks too much for her own good. She's an addict of literary magazines and when she has the spoons writes on her Substack newsletter (A Crip Punk) about disability and accessibility-related stuff and other existential topics. You can find her on Tumblr too (@majaurukalo).

Back to Issues
Read More by this Author