I watch
3 birds
On a telephone
Wire.
One flies
Off.
Then
Another.
One is left,
Then
It too
Is gone.
My typewriter is
Tombstone
Still.
And I am
Reduced to bird
Watching.
Since he is having trouble writing (ironic..since, you know, he is writing this poem), his typewriter has become no more useful that a giant paperweight, like that of a tombstone. 

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