An Angle from Which I Can See

Idly, I paddle, one hand in the drink
Fatally, I spin, hopefully I won’t sink
The orb, orbits, an angle I seek
To see, these words, emanating finger-speech

Purple, the color that does not appear
Blue, the tower, full of water clear
Fortune, it blows me, along the shoreline
Concordant desires, across the wave spine

Heart in my throat, I ride and fall down
Topple, I won't, unless surprise shorn bow
Polities of motors, dragging ski legs
My vote uncounted; not a placid lake