The poem is a tiny snapshot of a mismatch at the dinner table. A man decides, apparently on a whim, that he wants red meat for dinner. Meanwhile the woman is stuck eating his vegetables "in vain." The word "in vain" is the key: her effort to eat well, or to eat his share of the healthy food, seems pointless, as if his choice cancels it out.
The odd labels at the top, "sage" and "«unhealthy»," set up the tension. Sage suggests herbs, wisdom, something wholesome, while "unhealthy" in quote marks sounds like a judgment or a tag someone has stuck on his choice. The poem doesn't say who is speaking, but the tone feels dry and a little resigned, with a hint of quiet frustration. Judging by the short lines and the flat phrasing, the mood is wry rather than angry. It leaves you wondering whether this is only about food, or about how one person's casual decision leaves another quietly doing the dutiful thing.