When Rutherford B. Hayes comes to town,
Squirrels are charmed out of the eaves.
The editor breaks down and sobs.
…
His unrecorded remarks fill the air.

If we venture outside of the world of verse, my favorite celebration of a D-list President has long been They Might Be Giants’ James K. Polk– here’s a video of them performing this song in a Borders Books in my lovely (?) hometown of Braintree, MA for a bunch of fairly energetic and vaguely nerdy children, accompanied by their slightly less energetic and much nerdier parents.

(Note:  As a few friends from college and I once discovered, to “James K. Polk” is a lovely euphemism for hogging something a la Manifest Destiny, e.g. “Ricky, can you please stop James K. Polk-ing the sofa?  The rest of us need a place to sit down.”)

Optional homework:  Write a few lines about a solidly middle-of-the-road President.  Post ‘em in the comments, if you’re brave.  Make me laugh.  Make me cry.  Make me fall in love with William Howard Taft all over again.