It is not an iron, a horse, or a windmill. It cannot live without human needs (water, food, exercise). It has no scales. Its eyes are not on the back of its head, and it’s not a pickle. If asked, “What is your favorite food?” it would not answer, “A sandwich.” It would not answer at all.
It is not the shape of a waffle, or the material. It has no absorbency for syrup. Not in its teeth, or skin. It has no toes, no hands, or grip. It doesn’t need a weapon to grip.
It is not Gandalf, not a man, or wizard. It has no robes, no pants. It needs not the pants, the fly. It hates flies. They don’t pay heed when it flicks them off. It is not a woman either. It doesn’t like most people. People are flies.
It doesn’t wear sunglasses in its glory. It doesn’t wear sunscreen in its glory. Is there glory in war? It doesn’t fight. It doesn’t lose. It is not a mailman and his blue message-carrier. It is not a message, a letter.
It doesn’t like men or women. It doesn’t see them. They don’t see it.