Sinking feeling springs eternal...

courtesy sucker punched by vehicular travails

Truckload of banshees muffled

as more'n yours truly wails

he feels wheely tired

as one after another

significant snafu devilish

troublesome impish of the

poe pervert car -

tell driver unveils

scarier than Stephen

King's macabre tales

one illusory monster with

(by Scott) matted pointy scales,

who infuriatingly rants and rails

against dependence on

unstable, unpredictable, and

unmentionable car rear,

where his ruffled quilted wings,

stand on edge quiver and quails

analogous to how Jack

and Jill arduously lugged pails

splashing water to and fro

hither and yon some

drips drops long as nine inch nails,

actually pleasant sensation

though futile schlepping,

sloshing, and spilling bucketful

after bucketful eternal

rhyming task without reason

synonymous with Sisyphus,

but lo and behold

agony no longer assails

only fleeting ecstasy, think

Bos taurus came back

to animal farm -

carting... yup countless hay bales

(sh....) stolen goods,

under the whinny some nose

of neighboring Equus

at Clyde on dales,

one Mister Ed, a horse -

laugh he exhales,

said bovine won't be cowed,

cuz fodder knows beast,

that charity never fails.