Michael and the queue

 Michael stood out at the convention
He was too tall and waiting in the wrong place
He wasn't going to be attented to
As I walked toward him I smiled and shook his hand

I didn't tell him he was forming a queue where there was no attendance
He would wait there for quite a time still
And this would be his day at the fair
Crowds of loud and quiet people

There was a slice of gossip and excitement for each one
Confusion for some envy for others
Long lines of armchairs where the weary could sit
Waiting for some event to begin

Something that would rouse them from their passive comfort
To get them to mosey on down toward the action, wait in a queue
One that predictably went nowhere as certain people were chosen only
Much of life can be lived like that, they leverage your interest

You live inside someone else's audience