storytime in poetry

we are all of us just
complicated bundles of
interiorized narrative
both foisted upon us and
alternately self-invented
we are all of us just stories
briefly bound to these engines
of locomative bags of meat and
soon enough all meat dissipates
but our stories may continue on
and we have to live like it
this meat is all just the levers
we manipulate to bring our stories
into this real for a little while
you will someday again unravel
into protean threads of lore
little strings of meanings
but for now you are alive
and you have to live like it