Yang's sweet prose poem "Fresh Produce" is simple in the way a pomegranate is simple: it grows, you tear it open, you eat its sweet bounty of seeds, sticky and red in your unskilled hands, tart on your soft lips, lingering. "Fresh Produce" is what it is, and also it is much more, and it is much more again for you, a careful reader with a paring knife and a soft appetite.

"Catching Gold" is slippery: a mouthful of fish and and an ache in the back of your stomach. It is such a tightly crafted prose poem that it is almost impossible to do anything other than describe its linguistically playful fishiness in equally aquatic language. It moves like a stream, with hidden stillnesses that ask you: Will you look closer? Will you hold your breath? Will you catch, be caught?

Frond’s small volunteer team is seeking a third person to help us manage our social media and online engagement! Help us support and engage with the online queer and literary communities. Deadline: March 27, 2020.