La Chute de Sparte (2018) - full transcript

It's the story of a teen and his struggles in the last year of high school.

I'm 16 and my name is
Steve Simard, with 2 Es.

My parents associate English
with success.

So, they doubled my chances of success.


Worse than that, I'll never forgive them
for my Nazi initials.

But you can be born in a pigsty
without thinking you're a pig.

I live in St Lambert.
It really pisses me off.

It's a pretentious, hypocritical suburb.

A snobby old lady who courts the river
as she's fucked by the boulevard,

this masterpiece
of modern ugliness.

Like all suburbs, it's dehumanized,
devoid of beauty and conformist.

My street is hopelessly banal.

Our house is a castle of comfort
and indifference.

The decor of a tidy life,
neat, sanitized and bland,

straight out of a Scandinavian
decoration magazine.

It's as beautiful as a tomb.

Nothing indicates my presence.

My parents each have a sink,

but 3 sinks didn't work,
so I don't have a sink.

The place I live
is in the basement.

A good basement should always be
moist, dark, smelly and messy.

That way, they won't install
a home theater or a gym

they'll never use anyway.

"You must keep dreaming.
You must keep dreaming, always.

Stay true to your childhood dreams.

They're the only ones."
Pierre Bourgault

This is my room.

The only territory
where I exercise full sovereignty.

Last year,
I went too far with the mess.

My father tripped over
my caving equipment and hit his head.

It was time to clean the Augean stables
and it was a Herculean task.

Don't ask where I'm from
I'm from where my legs take me

I walk with only my courage

I hate fakes
Give respect to those who take it

Those who do as they like
Who are true to themselves

Live and let live
Could be my slogan

For some, I'm shit
For others, emotion rains down

A human torrent
from the veins of my life

OK, I'm not perfect. Are you?

I see too much falsehood
From studying people

I hate the left like a Cuban

I'm responsible for myself
Not for what others think

I'll let you speak
and I'll go deaf

Fuck your advice
I make my music

I bought my first beats
And patented 'em

You called your ma for money
I paid her rent

You ran like a chicken
I'm in a pack of hyenas

No-one screws me
My cash won't fit in my pocket

Chechen mentality
A jet setter with crooked teeth

Fuck the MC starlets
I prefer Jean Leloup

No red carpets
I walk on a bed of nails

Don't ask where I'm from
I'm from where my legs take me

I walk with only my courage

I hate fakes
Give respect to those who take it

Those who do as they like
Who are true to themselves

Live and let live
Could be my slogan

For some, I'm shit
For others, emotion rains down

A human torrent
from the veins of my life

OK, I'm not perfect. Are you?

I know artists who work hard
But get nothing back

They cook, but eat out of a dog's bowl

I don't trust people who kill for oil

They release an album
Then, they screw you

Whatever adults think,
youth is hybrid and unclassifiable.

I'm not in any gang.

I won't be defined
by advertisers or sociologists.

Hey, millennials, my ass!

Life isn't a cola ad.
My friends aren't on Facebook.

They don't like your selfies.
They'd give you a kidney.

I have more kidneys than friends.
Actually, I just have one,Virgil.

Real friends are like gold dust.

"Your house is a reflection of your soul."

- What're you looking for?
- My windsurfing board!


Hurry, you'll be late for class.

Nothing's uglier than a school.

It's a mix
of East German government bunkers,

maximum security penitentiaries
and credit unions.

A laboratory of bad ideas
from the 70s.

Ours is called Gaston Miron,
but everyone says GM.

Imagine, the great poet
reduced to an American car maker.

But what else is a school
than a diploma factory? Year after year,

hundreds of us
roll off the assembly line,

polished and formatted,

ready for the adult world.

my ordeal is coming to an end.

The only oasis of beauty
in this ugly desert

is the immense mosaic
of Gaston Miron's face.

It's really well done.

It looks like Stalin
on Red Square,

but the dude looks so modest,
his portrait doesn't seem pretentious.

The bottom is smeared with graffiti.

As graffiti artists love red,

it looks like
he's had his head cut off.

It's terrible and great.

Like adolescence.

In a 4-stroke engine,
there are 4 phases

that convert fuel energy
into motion.

First: intake.

The valve lets the air-fuel mixture
enter the cylinder.

Giroux! Your coat.

2nd stage: compression. The piston
compresses the air-fuel mixture.

The explosion, or combustion.

The spark plug makes the mixture explode,
causing the piston to lower.

Sava rd!

The movement of the piston
drives the crankshaft

which transmits the movement
to the wheels.

Last, the exhaust.
The piston rises

and lets the gases escape
through a 2nd valve.

Sorry, Paulin.
I'm in my exhaust phase.


The more cylinders,
the more power.

Most cars have 4 cylinders,
sports cars have up to 12.

My Mustang had 8.

You had a Mustang?

I was young once, too.

- What model?
- Boss 302.

O to 100 in 6.9.

- How fast did you go?
- Very fast.

- How fast?
- Too fast.

How fast?


That's nothing.

150 mph. 240 km/h.

We didn't use seat belts. We had
a bottle of beer between our legs.

Well, times have changed, of course.

I wouldn't advise it,
because it's too fast.

Every year, to welcome us,

the school gives all the students
a copy of "The Raggedy Man",

Gaston Miron's masterpiece.

During the autumn, you find
these abandoned, mutilated books

all over school.

Many also find it very convenient
to roll up joint filters with the pages.

To say most students don't care
about "Companions of the Americas"

is an understatement.

But the school persists,
and that's to its credit.

We don't stop sowing as some seeds
will rot without yielding corn.

I wanted to play football.
but wasn't athletic enough.

I wish I had friends,
but wasn't popular enough.

I wanted a girl,
but wasn't handsome enough.

Instead of practicing with my friends
while my girl applauded,

I read in my room.

That's when l found Miron.

Actually, he fell on me.

"The Raggedy Man"

was just the thing.

Without friends, a girl or plans,
I too was a raggedy guy.

Reading totally saved me.
You're never alone with a book.

"Everyone's feet in their steps

Everyone's tears in their eyes

Everyone's hand begging

In ships, everyone has their dreams

Yearning for gunpowder in their desires

And for nebulas in their thoughts

At dinner, everyone their bite

Everyone their neck in love



Everyone their bones in the cemetery"

What a mess!

Nothing ever gets done without me.

Nothing's been done in over a week!

"A special survey

by Nathalie St-Jacques reveals
that 82% of teenagers are happy."

Wouldn't you like to be in the majority?

It's an opinion poll.

They can make anyone say anything.

If it's representative,

the results are accurate.

- Don't they teach you that?
- OK...

So, when someone I don't know
calls to ask if I'm happy,

I'll say:
"No. I'm as unhappy as hell. I want

to jump off the bridge."

Filling out questionnaires,
you're being filled like a turkey.

Keep sleepwalking.
Keep believing

in your polls.
Don't worry, your kids are happy.

Yeah, don't clear up, Mr. Grumpy.

Your bag.

The document I'm distributing right now
is to validate your knowledge.

The document I'm distributing right now
is to validate your knowledge.

Maxime, your gum, please.

So, it's a test, if you like.

It's more technical than
the personal work you did last week.

It's due next week.
Steve, your hood. So, Monday.

The Marquis de Sade,
Donatien Alphonse Frangois de Sade...

I like this teacher a lot.

A 35-year-old with a nice fringe

and a perfect behind.

When she writes on the board,
no one listens.

Everyone delights in this wonderful butt
which always looks good.

Film, music, theater, literature:

she finds all sorts of ways
of interesting us.

I'm OK, I'm convinced.

He died in St Maurice
on December 2, 1814.

Thank you. Goodbye, everyone.

Steve, phase come here.

Your text on
"Philosophy in the Boudoir".


I really...

...really liked it.
- Really?

Oh, yes.

I think you master
the language so well...

Your work.

I've got it. Sorry.

Thanks. Have a good day.

That's Mathieu St-Amour,

Spartans quarterback,
the demigod of the school.

The archetypal model student
who excels in class and on the field.

He's the only one in the league
who passes 60 yards.

He was even spotted
by the Nebraska Corn huskers.

Nebraska what?

Corn huskers.

Your sister's horny, not corny!

Hey, not my sister!

I'd fuck your sister in a thong!

Not a chance!

Why is the flag of Quebec
always in tatters?

Hey. Vlrg!

My cousin said
to give you that back.


The big mama?


She's good-hearted.


Shut up!

Life isn't easy

That's why we stick together...

Was it fun?

More than here.


'Night, Mr. Grumpy.

Véronique Plourde.

As bright as an October afternoon.

She's always been in my dreams
without knowing I existed.

I watched her from afar,
like a field to harvest.

An unreachable horizon.

Maxime Giroux, captain
of the Spartans' defense,

known throughout the league
for his bone-crunching tackles.

A ruthless war machine.

Off the field, he's an ignorant dumb
that I despise with a vengeance.

But I would never have the courage
to say that to his face.


OK, everybody.

Everybody, please.

Thank you.

You need to use your sticks today.

You're not little kids. "Poop", ha-ha!

Sorry, I was using my stick
in the shower!

Max, Virgil, pick the teams.

Sava rd.


- Walker.
- Véro.

Pass, pass!

- Let's go Virgil, you're the best!
- Come on Latreille.


Calm down or you're out.

Calm down.

He'll be all right.



Eyes that burn,
hands and feet on fire

We run away to dance on the clouds

We'll be dreaming kids forever

I found the green in my white nights

I carve "I love you" on a tree

Apparently it hurts
Maybe it could understand

There are blades at my back

Birds cry with joy
Pretty baby, cry

Warm tears on my cold heart

With you I'm calm
I'm a train that derails

Lethal injection for my dogs
Lying on the slab

Analyze my stone heart
We collect stars in color-blind paradise

Eyes the color of rare birds
We'll die loving life

The stars surround us

To crown the parts of us

Which have never been seen
Which have always been known

The stars surround us

To crown the parts of us
Which have never been seen

Which have always been known

for the first time, the first star,

number 17!

Steve Simard!

Véronique Plourde.

It took a warrior act
to reveal myself to her.

Now she'd kissed me,
I could at last send a friend request.

She'd never looked at me.
Since this afternoon,

I was carved
in the marble of her kleos.

I'd avenged Patroclus,
beat Hector.

And I loved Roxane.

I was Achilles
and I was Cyrano.

I could hear Le Bret telling me:

"You love her. Tell her!

You covered yourself in glory
in her eyes today!"

Excuse me.

- Can you knock?
- Didn't I knock?

No, you didn't.

I will, next time.

You say that, but you don't.

I will, next time. I promise.

Hey, Ma, come on!

Fine Mr. Grumpy.

What're you listening to?

- What?
- What's that?


The chocolates have done a song?

- How's school?
- OK.

I saw you didn't touch
last month's allowance.

I want to buy a new caving kit.

Coming with us to Eastman tomorrow?

No, I'll stay here.

Invite Gilles over.

It's Virgil, Ma.

- Did you apply to Champlain?
- It's September!

And I don't want to study in English.

We Amazons have fun attacking thrones

We show up in a gang
We set the world to rights

Lion heart ladies

Ladies in a hurry

Work it, girls
No end to the effort

Artemis, Athena, Demeter and Persephone

There are stages
between whore and mama

We descend from Mount Olympus

We've had enough of this

We've got to get it moving

We're running the show
We give the slaps

Metal cores
We're on the move

We're running the show
We give the slaps

Vital combat
To avoid a dead end

Simard, sick goal you scored!

He's the guy who fucked Giroux!
Good job, man!

Thanks to the cheerleaders

of Gaston Miron School!

Welcome to the game
between Asterix Farnham

and your Spartans...

- Virgil: Back ache thanks to Giroux. Can't come.

- Steve: Fuck Giroux!

Here's Mathieu St-Amour!

Blue 22!
Blue 22! Hut!

It's a quick pass
to slot back Louis Dutil

and he's taken down after a gain
of 6 yards for the Spartans.

Right, Orlando.
QB draw. Ready?

Blue 22!

He fakes the pass
and it's a quarterback draw!

Look out, he's got some room!
He's at the 45!

And it's a 23-yard gain!

First down, Gaston Miron!

And the general takes matters
into his own hands!

Mathieu "too strong for the league" St-Amour!

The Asterix have their hands full.

It's a 50-yard bomb

caught by Lafleur

who gets away from coverage.

Lafleur to the 20!
Still going, he's at the 10!

They're not going to catch him!


Gaston Miron! Like the poem,
it's "The March to Love"!

Lafleur celebrates with
the rest of his teammates!

24 to 6, Spartans!

This is an absolute annihilation
on the battlefield!

Nothing can stand in the way
of this well oiled war machine!

They're on our field, boys!

We'll kill 'em!

Dropped in the backfield by
middle line backer Maxime Giroux!

Loss of a yard. The Asterix
are being completely dominated!

Cover the middle!
Cover the middle!

- I got it!
- Green 18!

Red! Hut!

Yeah baby! Eat the dirt! Eat it!

Watch the swing pass!

Giroux is a beast,
he's a monster!

And this game is over!



You jumped on that guy like a monkey!

Why does everyone know?

It's had 2,000 views on YouTube.

Giroux is mad at you.

Gotta go. My dad's here.

Watch out, Steve.

- Search for: "giroux lacrosse"

- Giroux scores at lacrosse

- He's pissed

- That's it my dood!

Use your power, Steve.


- Hope those legs can run Simard!!!

- Steve:Shopping mall?

- Virgil: Sorry, cousins here :(

- Steve:Watch out for those kissing cousins! ;)

- Virgil: You watch out for Giroux.

'Morning, Mr. Grumpy!
I saved you some casserole. Make a salad.

See you tomorrow, love you.

I looked at it from every angle,

but I was in deep shit.

Alone in the Circus Maximus,
I faced Menelaus's fury.

He'd start the Trojan War
just over a lacrosse game.

Giroux wanted to beat me up.
Véronique was avoiding me.


I was missing something.

If it were the end of the world

I wouldn't move any more than that

Death is not great enough

To tum us away from our 'gays

If it were the end of the world

I wouldn't move any more than that

- Virgil: Watch out for Giroux tomorrow!
- Steve: I'll use the back door...

- Virgil: I'll keep an eye out for ya.
- Steve: thanx


- Steve: I'm at the back door

- Virgil: Stay there, Giroux at front


Steve Simard!

The school's new idol!
Why are you here?

Avoiding Giroux?

He beat me up, too.

He beat me up, too.

I'd just started wearing glasses.

Christophe Latreille.

His face is devastated by acne.

His skin eruptions
formed a volcanic chain

His skin eruptions
formed a volcanic chain

from the forehead to the neck.

Some pustules were topped
by a whitish dome full of viscous sebum.

Despite a lively mind and biting humor,
he was always alone.

And you?


I gotta go.

I spoke to Giroux.
Nothing you can do.

Good shot, Simard. Sick, man!

- Mr. Popular!
- Enough!

It's just a game.

No, he's pissed off
with you and Véro.

No, he's pissed off
with you and Véro.

- What?
- Her tits were in your face.

What's that to Giroux?

Dude, he's her ex! Wake up!

They dated
till he broke her arm.

That was him?

That was him?


Giroux and Véro.
Hades and Persephone.

Giroux and Véro.
Hades and Persephone.

The eternal fascination with bad boys.

What are you doing here, Maxime?
Go to class.

You too, Steve!
Come on!

Please hurry and sit down.

Please hurry and sit down.

First of all,
congratulations to the Spartans.

Nice win. Maxime, bravo!

Player of the game.

If you could try as hard in class,
that'd be great!

So, today, we'll work
on your oral presentations.

If you have any questions,
come see me in my office...

- I haven't seen him.
- Nor me.


Where is he?

Where is he?

Don't worry, we'll get him.

He can't hide forever.

After school, have a look.

You wait at the back door.
I'll wait outside his classroom.

You wait at the back door.
I'll wait outside his classroom.

We'll get him.

- We'll get him.
- All right.

- We'll get you, dammit!
- You bastard!



"You must keep dreaming.
You must keep dreaming, always.

Stay true to your childhood dreams.

They're the only ones."
Pierre Bourgault

If I decided to stay here,
nobody would find me.


Not even Giroux.

Where were the heroes in my books
when I needed them?

Ulysses, Hercules, Achilles?

Ulysses, Hercules, Achilles?

Why didn't they kick Giroux's ass?

I'd read the entire library
of Alexandria,

but was powerless in reality.

This time, the solution
was not in books.

Unfortunately, I'm back,
like the recession

I rap at close range
MCs get a depression

They see I'm coming Chechen style

They're almost dead like the church

I wanna climb the podium, pockets full

I wanna climb the podium, pockets full

But I know
my album won't make the Top 10

I take life as it is
Few understand me

The main thing is to do what we love

I do it, it's real big stuff

I keep on explaining it to you

I keep on explaining it to you

I give it my all, it makes purists happy
You can test...

How'd you like it
if we made fun of you on YouTube?

How are you?


M'! eve...

Don't worry, it's just your eyebrow.

Don't worry, it's just your eyebrow.

What happened?

How'd you like it
if we made fun of you on YouTube?



Wasn't it enough
to break my goddam arm?

You'll look good on YouTube!

- You're not laughing now.
- Really, guys.

You really took your sweater off?

Not my top,though!

- Giroux is suspended.
- I should hope so!

- Giroux is suspended.
- I should hope so!

I can't believe
he did that to you.

It's coming off tomorrow.
Will you sign it?

I owe you a sweater.

See you soon.

- 1 notification

- Véronique accepted your friend request

You OK?

I'm going to bed.

- Access Gallery

You say you'd like to die

But look at you

You're beautiful as the biggest dream

Life loves you

Life loves you

You're beautiful as the biggest dream

Life loves you

Life loves you

You say you'd like to run

Far, far away from you

You say you'd like to run

Far, far away from you

You're everything they want to be

A ballet

of forests

We live in a vacuum
We often die

But how do we stay hungry?

The be“...

Everything alright?

Please go on, Véro.

It was used over fur coats in winter.

They tied it securely
to support their backs.

They kept their fur inventory

by knotting the fringes
for beaver, otter or marten pelts.

It's waterproofed with beeswax,

so it could be used
to drink water.

The belt is a perfect metaphor
for Quebec society

as it's more mixed than we think.
I have lnnu blood from my grandmother.

Your turn, Steve.

- Old people thnk we cant write properly.

We do make mistakes when we text,
but at least we are writing.

Never in the history of humanity
have young people written as much.

I think it's good news.

We're making writing evolve.

Emoticons, say,
add an emotional nuance.

Language isn't regressing.
It improves and evolves.

In its most refined form,
Arabic eliminates vowels.

What if texting were
the ultimate form of written language?

To understand an abbreviation,

you need to know
the spelling of the word.

Adults don't understand kids' texts,
so texting is bad.

Maybe we're encoding what we say
on purpose, so adults don't understand.

Thank you very much.

- You OK?
- Yeah, you?

- Yeah, you?
- Yeah. Coming tonight?

- Where?
- To the party.

Oh, yeah.

- OK, see you tonight.
- Yeah.

Don't move. Perfect!

- Did you do that?
- Cool, huh?


You won't get laid tonight.
You're menstruating!

- What's up, Steve?
- Hey.

I hear you're going to Nebraska.

It's not certain yet.

- Congratulations.
- Cheers, pal.

I can't,
I'm taking antibiotics for my eye.

Don't be a fag.

- Are you naked under there?
- Wanna check?

I'm good.

He's a Spartan, not a Scot!

- See you, guys.
- Bye.

See you soon.

Here. The alcohol will stop
your eye getting infected.

Take it easy, soldier!

Seen Véro?

- Seen Véro?
- What?

- Véro!
- What?

- Have you seen Véro?
- No, I haven't.

Very nice costume.




Well, have a good evening.
Have fun. Bye.

Separatists are over.
They gotta brought up to speed.

Their buddies...

Why isn't she here?

It's not even 9 PM.

The teachers who indoctrinate kids...

"With Groleau,

I." Q \ \ \ \ \ \ k
'i \ \ \ \ \ 1._

Cool, your outfit is super absorbent!


You look like a real winner!

Champion, look at this.


You don't want that
on YouTube! Delete.

Relax, man.
You got wasted, it happens.

Coming to the game?

Drink some water.

Steve, the leaves!

I'll wait outside.

By pressing "delete",

I'd erased the image,
not the shame.

I couldn't look her in the eye again.

If only I could make Véro
disappear from my memory

as easily as I'd erased her
from Virgil's phone.

The Cup isn't going to Longueuil
this year, understand?

Simard, you were so wasted!

- You were in overdrive.
- Hey, Simard! Harlem Shake!

Thanks to the cheerleaders

of Gaston Miron
who dazzle us with their talent.

- Menstruating again?
- It won't come off.

Let's go, Spartans!

...your Spartans who are coming off
an undefeated regular season.

There's the kickoff!

It's caught by number 86,
Luc "Chénéloze", with a 3-yard return.

First down Spartans!

Who's that guy?

A talent scout from Nebraska
to check out St-Amour.

The Americans are real pros.

The Eagles just barely snuck into
the playoffs from the backdoor.

They're going to have their hands full
with the Spartans,

who'll stop at nothing to bring
the Cup home this year.

There's the snap,
here comes the pressure.

It's an air ball that's almost intercepted
by the Eagles safety Christian Fournier.

St-Amour might want that one back.
He had to get rid of it on his back foot,

the blitz was all over him.
He must blame himself.

The Eagles are showing
they're not intimidated.

Don't count your chickens
before they're hatched.

Too low!

St-Amour can recover
but lost 7 yards.

That was a serious lack of communication
between St-Amour and the center.

The Spartans are going
to have to regroup.

St-Amour seems completely disoriented.

Nothing is working for the Spartans.

What a shit game!

St-Amour's playing real bad.

If only Giroux were here...

It's a pity he got suspended.

It's your fault too
for provoking him.

Giroux is a bastard.

- I'm hungry. Want a hotdog?
- Yep.

Giroux's suspension
is hurting the Spartans' defense.

Let's go Spartans!

Here you go, kid.

And it's the end of the game.

the Spartans were slaughtered

by the Longueuil Eagles, 31-3.

It's like the Battle of Thermopylae.
What a wipe-out.

- Hey, have you seen Virgil?
- Nope.

Good game, big guy.

What're you doing here, man?

I was looking for you.
I'll wait outside.

Keep your mouth shut.

Don't freak out.

Keep it shut!

- Don't worry...
- You damn fag, I knew it!

What're you doing here?

- It's OK, I won't tell.
- Fuck off!

Fuck off! Fuck off!

Fuck off!

- You're gay!
- Shut up.

You played
for the other team long?

I don't, really.

I'm more like Deion Sanders
and Bo Jackson.

I like football,
but I like baseball, too.

What about you and St-Amour?

It's the first time.

He's chicken.

He wants to, he doesn't want to.

It's messed up, man.

Don't tell my dad.

Don't worry.

- Virgil: 6 missed calls


"I'm exhausted, worn out, lacking in fire."
La Fontaine

I'm at Gaston Miron junior high

where a young student's suicide
has shaken everyone.

The Spartans' quarterback was found
hanging from one of the goalposts

on the school football field.

- On this cold Friday of November,
an entire school is grieving...

- What happened?

- Did anyone suspect anything?

- See you buddy.

By the way Nathalie,

are you still convinced

that 82% of teenagers are happy?


Poor parents! I can't imagine...

Yeah... Poor kid. Killing yourself
because you lose a football game...

His grades weren't
good enough for college.

You don't kill yourself for that.

There are other colleges.

You don't know, so shut up.

Don't talk to me like that, Steve.

You talk nonsense! You just repeat
what the TV and papers say!

He didn't kill himself
over a football game!

- What do you know?
- He hung himself 'cause of me!

I saw him with a guy.
2 hours later, he killed himself.

Happy now?

It's my fault he killed himself.

If I hadn't seen you,
he'd still be alive.

I'm still alive.

Maybe it was
because of the shitty game.

Who knows?

Deep down, St-Amour was a real Spartan.

The Spartan army encouraged couples.

They watched out for each other.

It boosted team spirit.

The most powerful army
in antiquity was gay?

He'd have been happy in Sparta.

What'll you wear?

- How about braces?
- Braces?

Yes, good idea.


Try these on.

- What?
- I want to see how you look.

There are people here.


You're handsome, son.



Can you help me?


Hang on.

The main thing is to start right.

You go around...

Did you know him well?

Well, yeah.

How do you feel?

I don't feel like going.

I don't know what to do.

Offer your condolences to the family.


And say goodbye to your friend.


The whole school turned out to pay
a final homage to our General St-Amour.

Achilles, the demigod
who all believe was invincible,

dead on the battlefield.

No one could believe it.

If he had no future,

what hope was there for the rest of us?

I know, it won't come off.

I wouldn't have said anything.

"Everyone's feet in their steps

Everyone's tears in their eyes

Everyone's hand begging

In ships, everyone has their dreams

Yearning for gunpowder in their desires

And for nebulas in their thoughts

At dinner, everyone their bite

Everyone their neck in love



Everyone their bones in the cemetery"

The time has come
To let go of the ties

To leave the tears behind
To dance your body

We'll be up to it

Pleasures we put in each other's hearts

Long silences

Which don't care about tomorrow

The end of the semester dragged on.

I hadn't seen Giroux
since St-Amour's funeral.

Two warriors had fallen,
I was still standing,

a goddess at my side.

Every kid leaving junior high
is a Greek hero who completes a quest.

With college around the corner,

the best lies ahead
for tortured high-school students.

So, there is hope
after the fall of Sparta.