I will - Despite

I will, despite the disembodied mother,
Compose a poem in my head in the rhythms
As I slice fruits generations of my family would once
Have lived their lives never tasting
And we taste now in unthinkable ashes

I will, despite the heatwave ribbing into my joints
Wash the bathroom rug and my lovers uniforms
At 90C, and with a prewash and softener
And put off eating the meal I just prepared
To type against the growling of my ribs

I will, despite the places I could theoretically be,
Stay home and cradle my body with the assembled cushions
In my chair with my distractions and stained vest
And ask what better means, and worse
And where in history the two became entwined