The Man With The Woman Head Are you with me on this people? The man with the woman head. Polynesian wallpaper made the face stand out, A mixture of oriental and early vaudeville jazz poofter, Forming a hard, beetle-like triangular chin much like a praying mantis. Smoky razor-cut, low on the ear neck profile. The face the color of a nicotine-stained hand. Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes, Map-like from too much turquoise eye paint. He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden teeth, Stained from too much opium, chipped from the years. The feet, brown wrinkles above straw loafers. A piece of coconut in a pink seashell caught the tongue And knotted into thin white strings. Charcoal grey Eisenhower jacket zipped into a load of green ascot. A coil of ashes collected on the white-on-yellow Daks. Four slender bones with rings and nails Endured the weight of a hard fast black rubber cigarette holder. I could just make out 'Ace' as he carried the tray and mouthed, "you cheap son of a bitch" As a straw fell out of a coke, cartwheeled into the gutter. So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood... So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood... So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood... Zappa, Frank (1940-1993)