Transparencies, Superimposed

If you think me a spectre,
If you see some ghostly fuzzing
In the way I flicker,
It is because I am in seven houses,
Seated at seven tables,
Trying to eat enough with seven hands
To feed my seven stomachs.
The hunger happens all at once,
The eating in disjointed
Sequence.
I guess you could call this
A haunting.