Bawdy, over-the-top, absurd, believable, sensual, romantic, mitotic, pan-sexual, exuberant, flowing, wild, purple, laughable, erotic, sensory, disjunctive, overwhelming, narcotic, obsessive, lovely, passionate, funny, swollen, diction-harried. Scented Rushes is a feast of release: of gendered and genderless passion, freely flying into spaces and zones, bumping up against lush language and an enlarged sense of playfulness. But this is the playfulness of the universe, of the swirling microbial contacts, of the accidents and infatuations of life. It is immense in its sense of disarray, which is not a dis- in any sense, but an array of what is out there. Composed of exquisite love songs, vertigo-inducing displacements, questions leading to more questions, answers hiding under other answers, one tries in vain to capture the spirit of the book entire, but it refuses capture. The book moves beyond statements to pulses, to figments, to fast advances and flirtations, to physical realisms of bodies, to wishes and rushes of sense. Gordon is actively engaged in pushing people out of comfort zones, into intelligent and zany places. One feels as if one is being spun in a dream, while the dream is spinning too.