Grit, True or False

We don’t know why you love
Some of us so damn much,
Pick us up, then drop us,

Toss us like seeds, like dust
To spread on the four winds.
We fly, too much of us,

Of one or two of us,
The new-loved words, caught phrase,
Brief fling with a fresh seme.

You pick us up like grit—
Grit here, grit on your shoes,
Grit in your hair, grit there—

Right now, grit’s just the best.
You mouth it. You praise grit.
Some of you grit your teeth.

The next day, you may swoon
For a new one of us.
There goes grit. Grit’s all gone.

Each next day, a new term
To love and spread like dust.
Grit or grist, love mills us.