Johnny Jones stands for any small-town kid whose chest tightens with excitement because Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show has come to town. The speaker knows that feeling personally. Buffalo Bill isn’t really a full person here—he’s a fleeting image: a hat, a horse, and a careless slanting glance that lands on barelegged boys watching from the street. That one look is enough to stir up huge longing. The speaker calls for the pony hoofs to click down the street again and for Buffalo Bill to slant his eyes their way once more. He wants the ache of boyhood back—the romance of prairies, dark nights, lonely wagons, and rifle fire flashing from an ambush. The mood is nostalgic and tender, full of yearning for something wild, distant, and just out of reach.
Buffalo Bill — Summary
Boy heart of Johnny Jones — aching to-day? Aching, and Buffalo Bill in town? Buffalo Bill and ponies, cowboys, Indians? Some of us know All about it, Johnny Jones.
Buffalo Bill is a slanting look of the eyes, A slanting look under a hat on a horse. He sits on a horse and a passing look is fixed On Johnny Jones, you and me, barelegged, A slanting, passing, careless look under a hat on a horse.
Go clickety-clack, O pony hoofs along the street. Come on and slant your eyes again, O Buffalo Bill. Give us again the ache of our boy hearts. Fill us again with the red love of prairies, dark nights, lonely wagons, and the crack-crack of rifles sputtering flashes into an ambush.