the input a poet wants

A homophone is a hash collision: different words, same sound.

In a toolchain, that’s the bug. Lexer, parser, namespaces, type checker. Every stage is there to cut the readings of a program down until only one is left. An ambiguous grammar doesn’t ship. Code that means two things is code nobody can safely change.

Writers go the other way. They look for the collision and build on it.

John Donne, sick and expecting to die, around 1623, talking to God: When thou hast done, thou hast not done, / For I have more. Done, finished. Donne, the man. God isn’t through forgiving him, and God doesn’t have him yet. One sound, one claim, made twice. A few lines later: thy Son / Shall shine as he shines now. Sun and Son, one light.

A compiler throws out exactly the input a poet goes looking for.