Hens run free and happy and lay healthy eggs and can be broody if they want to on upstate farms that we're told are a short green truck ride from the city and where rural life is alive and strong and where we market-goers yearn to live and would live if we hadn't got educated and had to live where all the top jobs are and we'll move there once we can but meantime we'll eat farm eggs with zero guilt and down breakfasts with free-trade coffee and do our part by supporting the right causes from a distance and voting correctly and recycling and so will the poor poorer who come to market from neighborhoods on the other side of the tents to buy fresh things that cost more but are better and because we all want them, everyone, and I for one wonder how we ended up this way and how these farm folk ended up here too this morning and I amuse myself by thinking that it all happened organically and I'd like to leave and I don't mean the UrbanGreenMarket and I think it might happen soon and it will involve a great number of wholesale changes in my life and I realize I've told myself this before. And a ceramic rooster spins in the morning breeze on this late-spring day and no one bothers to ask for a count: the number of things we'll deny before the rooster completes another turn on its tent-pole mount.