iRhyme?

From an ML prompt: I always wanted to write a poem where all the words are spelled like they rhyme but don't.

I think that I shall never hear
A poem as lovely as a pear.
A pear, not plum, upon a bough:
Ripe, sweet, and tender, not too tough;
A fruit more beautiful than fugues
Or melismatic riffs or segues.
No, poems and plays-- old rot like "Hamlet"--
Are useless to a hungry gourmet
Who'd far prefer a tangerine
Or even crisp roast porcupine
With apple juice to wash it down.
But too late now, that pig has flown,
And nothing's left but empty prose.
Say, which road leads toward San Jose?