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In late 2018, a split occurred amongst those wishing to celebrate pride in Tāmaki Makaurau. Auckland Pride requested that the police marching in the pride parade not wear their uniform, out of consideration for members of the queer community who had been victimised by police in the past. Instead of agreeing to march without uniforms, the police pulled out of marching in the parade, followed by a number of corporations who had intended to march. Critics argued that this showed the companies were never marching in the pride parade out of true solidarity with the queer community - rather, it was a good look to appear in the parade, but they didn't want to be around when things got controversial. 

Those wishing to still have a parade formed a new organisation, 'Rainbow Pride Auckland', while the original Auckland Pride created OurMarch - not a spectator parade with corporate floats, but a march which anyone can take part in. OurMarch was a reclamation of the foundation of a pride march - by the queer community, for the queer community.

We are celebrating with the poem 'Coming Out Into Love' by Ella Lamont.

Ella Lamont

Coming Out Into Love
(the day of twenty-sevention) 

twenty-four and counting

six more until we tick over to thirty

an elusive pair

introversive but growing into eclectic enclaves

keeping count on counter tops kept & swept clean

how long until the show begins?

do intermissions offer a chance gasp of air?

a chance for pleasantries,

permission to allocate niceties to the show,

or a chance to profess my preference,

that you are my favorite play?

before we re-enter the auditorium

examine the guiding cartography that leads to our seats,

and lean back into a baited silence that speakers louder than words ever could muster

social convention suggests I have arrived here far too early


the words hang on the precipice of the kitchen sink

I’ll put in the drain catch

so they do not wash away I have

held syllables on my tongue

ground consonants to refined powders between my teeth

mortar and pestle, only to find I have forgotten the open-ended throat dwellers

A, E, do I owe you?


Sunday scaries & chatter in the skull

give rise to a night-time wonder

the nocturnal imaginations of Saturday

it is comfortable to exist in an imagined utopia

kick-back in the recliner

where opportunities are endless

the chaise longue that accommodates multiplicities of outcomes plausibly, eternally & immortally 

a private conversation pit with me & myself & the safety of inwards exploration


but nothing exciting ever happens in the confines of the comfort zone

I will step out soon

a shaky step on to a volatile tectonic plate

and life will begin.

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Ella Lamont (they/them) first found a love for poetry in primary school, when they were published at age 9. Originally from Ōtautahi, you can find them plotting revolutions in Te-Whanganui-a-Tara. @lamont.mp3

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