My Heart is a Spittoon

My heart is hollow, nothing inside: she gutted it with an ice-cream scoop. Of course it was painful as hell. I shellacked it and sat it in the corner of the living room. The dogs piss on it when they haven’t been left out enough. When I chew Redman I use it as a spittoon. Soon it will be full of tobacco juice instead of love and maybe I won’t miss her then.