Maybe It’s an Upper Echelon Manifestation of Tourette’s?

I get songs stuck in my head.

Songs I don’t even like,

Sometimes songs I even hate.

Songs like “Sugar Pop, My Lollipop.”
or, even worse,
songs like “Sugar, Sugar,”
a bubble gum number one
Archie’s song
so sickenly sweet
that whistling it
or humming it
could cause tooth decay.

I sometimes sing
a bar or two of these
sonic hiccups
in public places,
like on sidewalks
or bar stools,
the words coming unbidden
out of my mouth,
even sometimes
in private places,
like living rooms
I might belt out

Sugar, a honey honey,
You are my candy girl,
And you got me wanting you.

Not to worry, though.
My friends recognize
my bursting into song
as a peccadillo, a quirk,
though one that can become
really, really
irritating,
according to sources
once near and dear to me,
like college suitemates, ex-girlfriends, dead wives . . .

And as for passing strangers,
I really don’t care what they think.