Permanent Wave

I've gotten an upgrade.
New intestines.
Complete blood transfusion.
All-over skin-stretch.
The latest model eye brighteners.

I'd be the youngest-looking guy around
if everyone else hadn't been through
the same process.

But vanity's the one constant
in this constantly evolving
high-tech world of ours.

So bones are now as much
steel as calcium.
Teeth are as white as polar ice-caps.
All the flesh that sinks with gravity
is digitally inflated back in place.

Yes, it really is me, I say to my wife.
At least, I think it's my wife.
Luckily, I remember how she looked
when we first met.
Because that's what I see before me,
after her session in the women's beauty lab.

With body parts so easily replaceable,
we'll be like this always.
Of course, there'll be no advancement.
For no one higher up the ladder will ever need quit.
So I'll be doing this job
from now through eternity.
And I'll never inherit the family fortune.
My great-great-great-grandfather,
the one we call Mr. Midas,
looks younger and is in better shape than me.
And we can't have kids.
There's no place to put them.

So we'll look great
but we'll be bored stupid.
It's like the latest in cryogenics.
Frozen in time but forever thawed.