The summer when
he was sixteen,
my little brother
ate Ding Dongs.
He bought them
by the box,
and after dinner
ripped open their
cellophane wrap,
eating two or
three at a time.
He loved Ding Dongs,
much as, years later,
he kept going
back to the cooler,
repeating the ad
slogan on his way,
“Looks like a Stroh
Lite night.”
Looks like.