I didn’t realize I had any pet peeves about poetry until I took one of my high school English classes. One 6 weeks we were supposed to write a poem in the style of the literature we were studying, and we were required to read them aloud to the class. This was all fine, until a classmate of mine got up and introduced the “po-EEEEM” she was about to read.

Something about her pronunciation of the word “poem,” with the emphasis on the second syllable and a strange stressing of the “e” vowel, set my nerves on edge. And it wasn’t a simple misspeaking–she continued to call it her “po-EEEEEM” through her entire presentation. It was all at once nasally annoying and haughty, as if her “po-EEEEEEM” was the best “po-EEEEEEEEEEEEEM” that had ever been written.

Somehow I made it through that presentation without going off my rocker. But, since I’d never heard the word pronounced like that before, I chalked it up to a personal choice on the classmate’s part, and thought no more about it. It was so outlandish and silly-sounding, too overdone for normal life…surely no one else would pronounce it like that. After all, who could seriously pronounce “poems” as “po-EEEEEEEMS” without cracking up, right?

WRONG. Several of my classmates in poetry and literature classes throughout college apparently labored under the same delusion–that pronouncing “poem” as “po-EEEEEEM” instantly gave their opinions and works an otherwise unreachable touch of class, artistry, and intelligence. Never mind that I was sitting there with my hands clawed around the edge of my desk as if someone was raking their nails down the chalkboard at the front of the room. And usually, the people who pronounced “poem” like this were the most conceited English majors in the room, acting as if their subjective opinions on literature were mathematically provable facts. Either that, or they were convinced that they were the next “famous dead poet,” and the rest of us were all just wannabes.

For me, then, the “po-EEEEEEEM” pronunciation has become shorthand for “I’m a huge snowball of arrogance barreling straight toward your brain and nothing can stop me!” It stands as an instant signal that this person thinks very highly of themselves, their opinions, and their art, and that everyone else is just a little bit less important. (You know, sometimes I really hate that the fine arts often attract this type of personality, because it gives the rest of us artists a bad image. We’re not all high-and-mighty nose-in-the-air types, after all!)

So if you ever see me cringing at a poetry reading, remember this post, and you’ll probably understand why. Just remember to duck the snowball of arrogance!