Where There Never Was a Hat

When one of the ones who changed
You goes, one of the ones who
Made you, though you never met,

And you’re nothing like, and you
Never aspired to be like
That, you know a minor scene

In you goes, a scene you want
To keep, at least until you,
Too, go. Because now you are,

In some small part, something made
By that one’s art. No more art
Means you can’t be made more like

Art by that art. That art’s done,
And whatever you become,
You’ll never be more like that.