Dave Bonta's "Fronting" is about putting on a show, and about how unsettling it can be to look at the show you've made. The title itself suggests posing or keeping up a front, and the opening lines say as much: "fresh bling as false / as a street of canvas." The image is of a movie set or painted backdrop, something that looks like a real street until you notice there's nothing behind it.
The speaker seems both drawn to this and wary of it. "Pretty is the simplest / look I took to" sounds almost casual, as if choosing a pleasing surface was the easy route. But the last lines shift the tone. The speaker considers "the picture / that shall master me," which hints that the image they've built may end up controlling them rather than the other way around.
The mood is cool and slightly uneasy. The language is clipped and wry, but underneath it there's a quiet worry about getting trapped inside your own appearance.