A plate is a plate. It is a round disc of weight.

A weight is a weight, ranging in size and

shape. A bar is a bar, gripped by the hands and pushed toward the stars. A push is a push,
the exerting of force by squeezing ones tush. The breath is the breath, it keeps you going
when you have nothing left. Two sets. In and out, in and out. The heart increases beats as
you stretch to your feet. A weight is a weight, you will feel it as you lift the plate. Your
arms they will ache as your body does sweat, the clock it does tick marking how much
time left. A set is a set as a bench is a bench. First you lay then you sweat. A set is a set,
as a rep is a rep. Ten reps equal one set. Ten steps holding plates will make you sweat. A
bar is a bar is a bar is a bar, hands are to a bar as a musicians strum is to his sitar. Chest
press. Long stretch. Back bends, two sets. Your sweat is your sweat it is sweet as it meets
your breath. Shoulder press. How many left? Side bends, come next. Push up, one left. A
spotter is a spotter, above you looking on. He smells your exhaled breakfast breath. He is
there for you when you have nothing left. He helps you out when your muscles are bereft.
Pull up, talk shit. Stretch marks, dont quit. Squat 1, squat 2 squat 3 squat 4. Pack your
bag and leave the door. Lunge 1 lunge 2 lunge 3 lunge 4. Are you having fun?
Do you want some more?

Ajax woke up. His eyes opened starkly. A shudder of panic pulsed through his long,
relaxed body. Im late. He looked at the clock; 6:32 in fixed yellow neon, Im good. A
breath. Numbers dont lie. His clock never deceived him, it never hid from him or
behaved like the enemy, it just was. The clock was the clock, it showed the time, always.
The only feeling attached to it were the ones endowed by its onlookers; either panicked
or anxiety-ridden, or if lucky, relaxed in idle knowing. How simple it must be to be a
clock, never straining or having to exercise.
He turned and yawned, with a few minutes to lay in bed, the fear of being late
subsided but loomed. He hated being late. He hated being late more than anything else,
he hated that it demeaned his reputation, that it showed a lack of self-provision and that it
always, no matter what drew attention to him upon his fifteen or ten minute inevitably
tardy arrival.
Being prompt was a quality instilled in him at a very young age, by his father, a
warriors mentality, in regards to everything, but more specifically regarding time. His
father, shepherding him to fields and gatherings always stressed the importance of
punctuality.
Ajax, son, you must do everything in your will to arrive on time.
Yes, Father.
To be prompt.
Yes, Father.
To be on time.
Yes, Father.
As the clock went from 6:32 to 6:39, he decided hed get up at 6:45 and lay
beneath the dark, cool covers, turning his head on the soft pillow. Herakles will be late.
Herakles is always late, so why should I stress about being on time?

True, Herakles was always late. Hed barge in quarter after eight wearing his
LeBron James Heat T-shirt jersey, fastening his Under Armor gloves, barking Rise and
Shine, rise and shine gents. Which never made any sense because he was always the one
late, he was the one that needed the wake up call considering Polynieces, Philoktetes and
Ajax were already a quarter way through the days regiment.
Ah, to be young and dream, his eyes were heavy and his body slumped, he didnt
want to rise in his boxer briefs where hed immediately be privy to the outside harshness,
the wind chill.
But he did, at 6:47 and started a warm shower. The water scolded down on his
back, he closed his eyes and relaxed. What does it all mean? What is the worth of
pursuing anything, anything outside of the love of ones family? His fingers wet and
soapy, massaged shampoo into his scalp. My parents, laying in that handmade bed across
from me, the tiny space we all once shared. All pursuits are pointless, all of my passion
and this futile ambition, of training to become a Greek soldier, of wanting Achilles
unchinkable Armor, of my son, Eurysakes, who is one year younger than me, who
stretches me and is Filipino, and my wife, Tekmessa, Im not sure I entirely like Tekmessa
though I cry and kill for her, I kill her. Slaughter and scream, the unrealistic torment of
having to kill oneself, every night, close to 8:30pm in a small, crowded room with no AC
in front of a well educated, half-tipsy audience whos paid a decent amount of money to
watch me and others (Elektra, Orestes, Haemon, Oedipus, Ismene and Creon etc etc)
torment and love. He turned the nozzle of the shower and grabbed a towel, he dried
himself off, dressed and left.
He got a bagel to go and walked and chewed and ate and watched. People
walking in all directions, suits and ties, dresses, heels, skirts, some but not all making eye
contact with the bagel eating Greek war hero, but clearly none recognizing, none able to
stop or pay homage, and this made Ajax doubt even more, what is it all worth? Why must
I train and fight when no one acknowledges my actions? Who will be responsible for the
sacking of Troy, if not me and the Armies I lead?
He was studying two people across from him, each standing in the doorway of the
downtown six train, the best possible place to ride the downtown six. A man, wearing a
suit and reading a large book, Homers Epic? As the train stopped at 42nd street and the
doors on the mans side opened, he lifted the book and Ajax caught a glance, in large
green letters across a sky blue, the descending word; FREEDOM.
Oh, are you reading that? asked the girl next to him.
Yeah, yeah, just started.
What do you think?
Its goodso far.
The girl was a pretty blonde, she wore a black pencil skirt a pink blouse and over
it a sweater. Shes pretty. The kind of girl Ajax had grown up around, politically
indifferent, mostly following the leads and words of their clean, right-leaning parents.
She possessed that moral cleanly beauty of the citys suburbs, a Long Island, New Jersey
migr sensitivity that Ajax sniffed out from a mile away.
The train was approaching 23rd street when it looked like the two were going to
get off together. It was the usual downtown morning experience, with most people strictly
concerned with getting from point A to point B, their eyes not averting from that path.

Ajax was shocked to be the only one looking around, studying the hands and the
creases in the faces of people from the gamut of the worlds continents and evolutions
around him. Black women with large breasts and thick white teeth, with short hair and a
certain wholesome pleasantness acknowledging their surroundings, effortlessly taking
them in, being there with such ease, only engaging when asking if the train passed her
stop or if that last announcement had said express instead of local.
Clean cut, militaristic looking men in suits and black spats, with their ipod
headphones in and the slight purple reddish glow of tiny veins on their freshly shaven
faces.
Everyone wore glasses and even those who didnt seemed to be. Worn to read
numbers, contracts, The Hunger Games, to read 34th Street in black letters on the tiled
posts spinning by on the soon to be stopped at subway platforms.
There was the quiet hum of the train, that low-fi screech and stop, that forward
lurch of success, work, destination and monotony, a sound signifying an almost
destination where I can work so I can put a hot plate of food in front of me, so I can
watch the Giants and The Jets on Sunday, send Christmas Cards to my family but most
importantly to defy that wane, that squeamish twist my face would make if I didnt. We
avoid it by riding that morning train, so when someone asks, How ya doin? we can
reply, Good. Good. My life is good. and do so convincingly.

The dog was yapping and an alarm was buzzing. He slapped his hand, sluggishly atop the
small black alarm clock, and the alarm ceased momentarily.
Will he shut uppppp. He moaned, lowly, tiredly, as his wife who was entwined
between his legs and underneath his embrace whiffed his morning breath, with
suddenness she rose out of bed, scooped the panting dog off the floor, threw him to the
side of the bed and resumed her position under the covers within her grumbling husband,
her face intentionally away from his gaping mouth.
Hes on my foot. Polynieces said, through his teeth and his wife forcedly
giggled.
Hes on my foot! he said again, this time playfully.
Well get him off.
He wriggled his feet, the dog yelped and moved and the two laughed. Polynieces cuddled
up into his wife, a tall, thin blonde who slept in a worn white tank top and soft white
underwear with a faint pink flower print.
What time is it? he asked her, still groaning.
I dunno, you hit the alarm. she said.
Ahh, I dont wanna get up.
Eh, I dont wanna get up. she said as she pinched his left eye lid.
Hey! he snapped and pressed himself into her, wrestling her under him, the two
rolling.
I want to lay right here, with my beautiful, blonde, sexy wife, our amaaazing dog
in our ridiculous apartment. And he kissed her, a short peck on the lips.
Euch, your breath.
And my bad breath. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against her face.

You should get that checked out

I want you to have it all-
Its disgusting.
And all, and all-
She squeezed the sides of his gut.
Hey!
The dog yelped.
Come on fatso.
Im getting better, no? He rolled over onto his back, lifted his blue tank top and
flexed his belly. His neck raised, he held his breath and his face reddened as he squeezed.
Youre a fat fuck, but thats why I married you, right sushi. Thats why I married you.
And she sat up, lifted the dog and let it lick her face.
Polynieces exhaled deeply and began doing crunches. Dont you hafta get going
if you dont wanna be late? he asked her.
Its quarter to eight, Ill make 8:30 in no time. she said.
Ouf, ist quarter to eight? he said.
Yeah, you think we have time? she asked.
Sushi was sitting on her lap and licking her wrist.
Guys are gonna be here at 8. He said.
Yeah, so we have ten, fifteen minutes. She said.
I need to eat, this Greek cant be some schlubby heir to the throne, if I have nothing in
here- and he slapped his flexed stomach hard with three thwaps and continued. Ill
have nothin to show for it.
Fine. She said and kissed the dog, which she threw her onto the ground, the dog landed
with a slide and she walked into her large walk-in closet.
But you know I want to to. He said and threw himself onto his stomach, facing her in
the closet. Sushi jumped back onto the bed and licked his inner ear.
You know I really want to. And he grinned at her, , a ssheepish, charming, smile.
Whatever, Hannan, its just we havent,,in a whileits been like a month.
Babe, I know he said, he scooped up the dog and came up behind her as she looked
through a rack of hanging blouses, trying to decide what to wear.
He handed her the dog and put his hands on her hips. He pressed his pelvis up
against her. She slid a hanger over with her free hand.
You know youre my bad bitch, you know that right? he said.
She slid another hanger over,
I just, we cant right now..not this morning. He said.
Yeah, yeah, whatever. She said.
He moved the hair from back of her neck and kissed her neck below her ear, then walked
out of the closet and into the kitchen. And plus, I cant, not while Im lifting. The Oracle
says its bad, gotta keep the juice in the tank. He said.
Still in the closet, she exhaled like something was stuck in her throat.
Hannan took out a box of Raisin Bran, stuck his hand in the box and swigged
orange juice, straight from the carton. He put the TV on, SportsCenter, right where hed
left off the night before. Immediately he felt more attentive then ever, his eyes glancing at
the ticker of highlights soon to be reached, already a highlight from last nights Laker
game. He watched and ate in a monotonous fixed glaze.

His wife was dressed and moving about the apartment. She wore a black skirt and
jacket over a white undershirt, Sushi scampered around her as she slipped on her heels.
She walked into the living room where Hannan was eating fistfuls of raisin bran
from the box and within her sparked a glimmer of happiness, that the day was starting,
that she lived in downtown Manhattan, that she had a good dog and a great apartment,
this momentary glimpse into masculine frathood, this entirely opposing yet necessary
contrast was how shed leave their home and go into the much larger world. She kissed
him on the cheek and made to go.
The Lakers won, he said to no one and everyone to himself and to the TV.
Thats great hun. Brush your teeth. She said as she opened the door to go.
What a fucking game. He said, his eyes still fixated on the highlights. Kobe dropped
44. Kobe dropped 44?!
Have a great day, love you. She said.
Love you he said, now at her full attention as she walked away.
I dont even get a kiss? he said, and followed her, he stopped in their hallway, his hand
still fishing in the box.
I just kissed you. She said.
No you didnt.
Yeah, I did.
He grinned, Well, I want another one.
I have to go, Hannan, walk her at one and four.
Love you.
Love you too. And the door slammed.
Loser. He said, under his breath.
The dog had gathered by his feet where she was licking a few crumbs of cereal.
She sniffed as she wagged her tail. He bent down and picked her up.
No! No! Thats not for you Sushi! No! Bad girl! He walked into the kitchen and looked
a the clock, 8:02.
Shit. He said and went to the sink, rinsed his hand, wiped it on his shorts and went to
his dresser by his bed, he leaned back on his bed and put on a pair of small black ankle
socks.
Hed wanted to make love to his wife that morning but he also easily avoided it.
True, he did not want to risk being late to meet Ajax, Herakles and Philoktetes but false
that of late he was able control the fantasies and images which were provoking and
diluting him.
He was saving his cum to be shot onto the face and dripped off the chin of the tall,
Iranian actress whom hed recently befriended. He had recently met her, cajoled her, did
his own nuzzling up to her, and was attempting to sustain yet interrupt their distance, but
he didnt know how to just yet. And he fantasized not just of her, he fantasized a group of
them, a harem of naked, frothing whores who did nothing but maniacally laugh and
tremor, worship and absolve him, and want and beg for nothing more than the taste of his
thick, Israeli, married cum.

Akh, a wailing muffled moan emanated out of his mouth. It was 7:40 and he was still
asleep. He was dreaming about logging into his OKCupid account, a repetitive Denied
message continually reappearing as he banged his heavy hands on the keyboard of the
computer. He was unable to think in his dream, unable to logically sift through the
markers within his brain and recall his password, which was poon. Instead, his dream
was like a repetitive cyclical meandering, a bothersome attempt only to be continually
denied, as if dreaming, which he had in recent nights before that he was standing in a
pool of fire and didnt have the logic or the subconscious strength to move.
Herakles was a big man, a large hulking presence whos polite demeanor
concealed a reckless childishness, a cease-growth and primitive stunt. He stood over six
feet and had a large square shaped head, with finely combed soft brown hair, he was
always well groomed, shaved and wore small round glasses, somehow uncharacteristic of
who he was yet they fit.
Just as he thought hed remembered the password and there was a momentary
hesitation in the uniformity of his dream, he woke up. Damn, he thought, recalling
exactly the moment in which his realities shifted and he was evaded satisfaction. He
turned over on his twin size bed, which his large body dominated and picked up his
glasses from his side dresser, put them on and looked at the clock; 7:42. Ah, fuck. He
said and cleared his throat of the nights accumulated bile.
He stood up quickly, was nauseous for a moment and then gave three consecutive
loud Hms. clearing his throat.
God Damn it! He announced and walked into the bathroom, hocked a large
loogie and spit it into the sink. He ran his hand under the water, splashing the water
against the front wall of the sink, wetting the hock of spit until it went down.
He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were swollen, puffy and obtuse. He
leaned into the mirror closely, pulling on his cheek under his left eye, and he inspected
his eye in the mirror. It was blood shot and haggard and re-shaping its outer concealment,
by shifting his cheek, he saw the lower half of his eye, more direct, in an uncommon and
almost as a separate entity and organism, it startled and fascinated him out. He never fully
contemplated his mortality; his bodies mostly separate yet unifying functioning
components, which made up who he was. At the age of 33, he now began to witness a
semi-downward slope in his bodys inevitable decay.
He knew he was handsome. He knew women liked him. He considered himself a
well presentable man, a man of mixed background; half Cuban, half Irish and he made
his pursuit of women one of his daily priorities.
The way to get a girl Hed say to Ajax, Philoktetes and Polynieces , Is treat her at first
like shes a mother.
What?!? Said Polynieces.
just hear me out, hear me out. He lowered his voice and spoke in a calm resolute tone
the way Herakles spoke to his son Hyllus, when he instructed him to throw him into the
fire and burn him, for Honor.
You gotta get your foot in the door by being nice to bitches, you know what I
mean? Or else girls are gonna walk right away from you like that. And he snapped his
fingers, which made a muffled pop through his workout gloves. He brought his legs down
toward his chest and pumped them out, completing a rep on seated incline leg press.
whoa, what the fuck? he said.

I think youve got uneven weight on there boss. Said Ajax.

Yeah, I was gonna say said Herakles.
Ajax replaced a 35 pound weight with a 45 pound weight on the left side of the machine,
ensuring Herkables wouldnt proceed to make his right leg stronger than his left, which
left to his own devices, unsupervised, he mightve, which wouldve slightly changed his
already odd energized walk, though an acquired change like this may not have changed
all that much, he sort of bopped and glided, on the balls of his feet, his energy always
looming forward, not fully sure if someone or something came at him from the side, hed
be able to register it.
He went back into his room, changed his shirt, shorts and underwear, looked at
the clock again which read 7:50 and noticed a thin white garment next to the clock which
wasnt his,
He moved his blankets around, and grabbed his white iphone, which had slept,
along with him, under his covers at the foot of his bed. He had two new texts stacked at
his home screen. The first from Abigail said, Great Night and the second, also from
Abigail said, Dont be late hehe.
He wondered how she knew, a) that he would be late, and b) that he really didnt
want to be, but always was.
We gotta get up early tomorrow. He yelled it in her ear, as the DJ blared
electronic and people pushed and rubbed up against them in a sea of sweat bodies and
dim light.
Whys that? she yelled back into his ear, looking at the neatly barber-created
line on the back of his neck. She liked this, having once had a pleasurable but hairy time
with the back of a Bulgarians neck on a roof in Chelsea, the summer before. Since then it
had become a pet peeve, which shed laugh over and share with this weeks best friend.
I work out in the mornings so-
She glared up at him.
I shouldnt even be drinking this. And he held his drink out to show her.
You know what I mean? he said.
His voice was a deep masculine bass with a hint of having English potentially not being
his first language, because it wasnt.
When I was a baby, thats all I spoke, wish Id kept up with it cause now Im like
just under being fluent.
Ajax and Philoktetes nodded. Re-racking a few weights on the squat rack.
But Ive got it on my resume, cause fuck it dude, unless the casting directors are
speaking Spanish, people dont know.
Most times his voice was too loud, as if he had volume control issues or a hearing
problem and also a slight fog or muffle in his articulation occasionally made it difficult to
fully understand him, working to his advantage. The same way that great people attract
each other, so is true of the opposite.
I love this city. He said to her, surveying the large mass of heels and skirts, guys
in button ups and tight V-necks hoarding around or standing by sibilant, ready to strike.
Thank you. She said and ran a hand through her bangs.
So, youre an actor? she asked.
He bent over, leading with his ear. What?
Youre an actor? she said again.

Yeah, howd you know that?

I saw it on your profile.
He turned, facing her, What?
She leaned into his ear and uninhibitedly spat into it, Your profile. Its on your profile!
Oh, yah, forgot it was on there.
A large latino dude bumped Herakles shoulder from behind. The guy looked back at him.
Youre good bro. said Herakles and put out a hand as he said so, stiff fingers in the
dudes direction.
Im in a show now you should come see it. He said.
yeah? Whats it called?

What?
.!!!
Oh, okay. Whats it about?
About five hours, but its a siiiick show.
She continued to sway to the music.
She liked that he was bigger than her, though most men were. She liked his broad
shoulders and veins and muscles which bulged and flexed in his forearm, the hand in
which he held his drink.
You should come, come tomorrow night. He said and they locked eyes.
Okay. She said and kept sipping.

He sat on the downtown 1 train, in a not so crowded car toward the back of the train.
Aside from a few stragglers from the morning commuter crowd, the train was mostly
empty and rocked side to side slowly as it crept forward at a slow pace between 116th and
108th. You gotta be kidding me. He said, and he let his head fall back onto the steel
frame of an Emblem Healthcare advertisement, just below Si, se puede.
No one on the train noticed, the five or six people in the center of the car had
heard him and the two young Puerto Rican girls in uniform, with their older sister
standing with them heard a muffle but no one fully acknowledged. ipods, iphones, ipads
(where someone was slashing fruit) and multiple other distractions allowed for people to
ignore. But the two people who did hear it, a Mexican construction worker and a female
MTA Employee both chose to ignore him, to not even tilt their heads. They could tell, as
well as any other native could that this was a remark articulated from an outsider. And
while the man didnt allow the remark to enter his head, the young woman did and
thought, who the fuck he think he is? but the thought wasnt fully formed, it was more
of an instinct, released with a sigh. Too many damn people movin to this city, our city,
my city and act like they been here all they life. And to every native New Yorker every
impresario was frankly crystal clear.
He spent the entire train ride on his phone, with the OKCupid application open
and his thumb and eyes doing the trained sifting. He sifted as he walked, momentarily
looking up to catch glimpses of street signs, traffic lights and PED walk signals.
Of every four or five pictures, he clicked on one and took a look at their profile.
His eyes immediately going to two categories; Age and Interested in. An ideal candidate

was between twenty and thirty five, though he wasnt reluctant to allow those numbers to
waver in either direction and he only messaged girls interested in casual sex, he would
give the occasional short term interested girl a chance but found within his first few dates
that these types of girls talked too much over dinner and would steadfastly question him
about where he derived his actual income.
He was not on the site to figure out who he was or who someone else was, he was
interested in one thing and one thing only. He introduced a new girl to Ajax every week,
sometimes twice a week or at one point, three nights in a row.
Okay, its official. Announced Polynieces. Herakles has brought the hottest
girls to our show.
This was during the first intermission of the two-intermission show. He was
talking about three dark haired, dark skinned south American girls who were sitting in
Box one stage right. They dressed in crisscrossed tops which revealed their brown backs
and wore high heels.
Columbian girls, bro, hottest bitches on the planet.
Sorry, Ive got to make an entrance, said Ajax, carrying two small silver
daggers and a small green leotard.
My bad, Ajax. Said Herakles.
Its cool, youre cool. Said Ajax.
At the second intermission Polynieces was chatting up Herakles friends.
Well, Im married so- and he laughed.
Oh, you are? she said, then why you talking to me? and her and her two
friends laughed. No, but actually, I am as well, so and she presented her left hand.
Dayum! Thats a ROOCK!
All three laughed again.
Are you getting our food? she asked, perceiving everyone in the vicinity,
already eating.
Uh, yeah, Im not, but someone else should be. Hold up, lemme check.
He walked to center stage where Odysseus was ladling thick green eggplant curry into
small brown bowls.
Whatchu need man? said Odysseus.
Uh, you see those girls over there?
He leaned toward Odysseus and pointed out the two. Odysseus looked up, Yep.
They still havent gotten their food, so- said Polynieces.
Yep.
Can you do your fuckin job?
Hey, relax, relax, itll get right over to them.
Nah, nah, Im playin, Im playin around. But thanks yo.
Polynieces dragged his feet back to the three girls and half mouthed, half-spoke Comin
right out and raised a thumbs up in their direction. Ajax approached Polynieces with two
empty pitchers, Polynieces, can you fill these up? I gotta warm up. Said Ajax
attempting to hand Polynices the pitchers.
The girls motioned for him to come over to them as they munched on soft, round,
pork buns. Hold up, hold up Ajax. He walked over to the girls who were trying their
hardest not to giggle. Why do you, oh, excuse me. She put her hand up to her mouth,
Why do you like stay in your costume? she asked.

Oh, its cuz I gotta bow. We all gotta bow at the end in costume and
Oh, okay, yeah, we were just wondering. And the three looked at each other and
laughed. This is the first play weve been to, like live play and, its really cool.
you like it right? Yeah, wait til you see Act II, theres a sick fight scene where
my boy Ajax slaughters these sheep.
Oh, wow.
And he went to leave.
Hold up, before I go though, we should exchange info, I wanna look you up on
facebook and he went for his phone, Im always lookin to connect and you guys are
good people.
He walked over to them and typed into his iPhone.
whats your name?
Marla she said between chews.
Mar-la he said as he entered it into the phone.
Cruz
Cruz. C-U-R-Z. Cruz.
C-R-U-Z
Oh, yeah, yeah my bad. I gotta get downstairs and start my cleaning duties, always on
the move. Great meeting you though. He said.
great meeting you too. She said.
Enjoy the rest of the show.