If you’re going to tell yourself a story,
Why not tell yourself a story of freedom?

A deeply American (Zen-infused, rebirth-shy) meditation on (not translation of!) the Therigatha which makes up in earnestness what it lacks in subtlety.

I recommend reading the book critically, alongside a real translation, so that you can see for yourself how the poems leap off from the originals. Considering what was lost, what was added, and how the tone shifted, what does the collection say about American Buddhism?