Hughes and Beardsley in the ring

So, Langston Hughes writes about the "Negro poet" in "The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain" (p. 1313). He contrasts the jazzlike, unrestrained, musical voice of the Negro poet to the calm, collected voice of the white poet. To me, skin color is only what started the different cultures, because several African Americans hopped on the Anglo-Saxon culture-train to get more societal acceptance. But for the purposes of brevity I will refer to them as Negro and white cultures, since that is how Hughes (and many others) refer to them as. I would like to stretch my creative juices and imagine what an argument between him and Beardsley would be like:

H: How else can you account for the differences in poems written by the white man and the Negro man besides the fact that it is the poet that we connect to when we read the poetry, that the poet and his life and experiences are intimately woven in with the poem?
B: I did not say the two were not intimately connected, I just said that they are not one and the same. And that when we read a poem, we are not reading an author. We are reading what comes from the author, but we are not reading the author himself.
H: When one author moves with the jazz and is the jazz and his poetry is jazz, and another author buttons up his coat and takes a quiet walk and his poetry is proper, how do you say that we are not reading these men?
B: What comes from the author is like the author. What comes from the author can only come from that author. But, as I said before, what comes from the author IS NOT THE AUTHOR. It is a poem. Are you, Mr. Hughes, a daybreak in Alabama? Or the silver rivers of jazz instruments? Or a river of tears?
H: I am all those things. And I am everything I write about.
B: But are you not also more? And does it not reduce you to a line of verses, and reduce the poem to a single man, a single set of experiences, if you make the two equal? Would you not say that there is more to you as a person than these poems?
H: The poems are the deepest part of me, they encompass me.
B: But "Daybreak in Alabama" does not talk of romance, and you in fact experience romance.
H: It's still a part of me you're reading.
B: But does the poem not also gain power when it is put down onto paper? I am talking to you right now. And you are enjoyable. But when I read what you write, I am moved beyond words; it is an entirely different experience. It comes from you but it gains a power and becomes a...a thing.
H: It's still me. Just because you don't see that "me" when you talk to me. The "thing" that moves you so much when you read my writing is still encased in this body.
B: I will have to trust you on that, because I cannot see inside you, and I do not know you. That information is not accessible to me. The only thing accessible to me is the poem. And what is true of your connection with your writing is not true of all writers.
H: I think it has to be, or else they wouldn't write it.
B: Well, again, I wouldn't know. I can't see into every writer and confirm that.
H: You just have to trust it.
B: You can claim ownership of the poem if you want. You can think that "poem" means "piece of me." I don't really care to be honest. But I am still calling it "poem," no matter where it comes from, because that is all I can prove.
H: Whatever floats your boat.
B: Care for a beer?
H: Budlight, please and thank you.

So, I like when things end happy. Who knows, they might have ended up in a fist fight. Not in my dreams though....(yes..I dream about these things..)