dissonance in the stop & shop

I have always admired the seafood
section of the stop & shop,
the lobsters sit complacently,
except for the single naysayer
who climbs incessantly and no doubt
whispers 'the end is near'
to the rubber-banded brethern.

A tank away, some crabs
have already met their maker.
Their detached claws lanquish
on processed ice for the erudite
shellfish afficionado.

Behind them, a pile of FRESH!
Clams lay, like a strange Dali painting
explained with the sign FRESH!
LIVE CLAMS, wild caught
as though the shellfisherman tracked these
clams and flushed them out of the tidal
flats using only his bare hands and an old
trusty clam rake-

(my, what a champion a man like that must be!)

a woman behind me, noticing my uneasy
and engaged pause, breaks into my moment
and decries the seafood.

“This isn't the place to buy seafood honey”
she tells me,
“If you want them fresh, go to Anthony's.”

I ask her if they have wild caught clams there
she looks unsure, but answers yes.

I thank her for the advice,
and press my hand close against the
glass of the lobster tank to engage
the disengaged, shackled
crustacens.